#as i was unemployed and. how shall we say. going through it

[holopossums]

happy anniversary to this silly post of mine that exploded and made lots of people big mad about a fictional character's age when i was merely the funny little messenger, and suddenly made way too many people on the internet aware of my existence for comfort

so about that twitter q&a...

[avengerscompound]

The Interview - Chapter 27

The Interview - A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Rating:  E

Warnings: none

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Melody Danes

Word Count: 2656

Summary:  Melody Danes gets the break of a lifetime when as a lowly intern, she’s assigned to write a profile piece on Captain America.  Steve Rogers is a hard man not to fall for and as she and Melody get closer and Melody’s career takes off, jealousy leads to sabotage, and the potential to bring her whole world crashing down.

Chapter 27

Melody’s phone call with Bobbi hadn’t gone well - not as badly as it could have but Bobbi was still freshly hurt.  She seemed to believe that Melody hadn’t done this, and the worst things weren’t even written by her, and to understand that this was something that had happened that hurt everyone, Melody included,  but still - she was hurt, and there was blame being put on Melody.  When Melody said that she would be staying in Oregon for a while, Bobbi said that was probably for the best.

That had hurt.  A lot.  After everything they’d been through, Melody had thought Bobbi might want to face this with her, the way they had faced so many things in the past.  Melody would give her time though.  It was fresh and Bobbi wasn’t worrying about herself - she was worried about Bucky.  Melody could understand that.

Steve had been packed and ready to go when she got off the phone, so after saying goodbye to her family, Melody had driven him to the airport.

It was a teary goodbye.  Melody had known this trip was going to be stressful, but she had no idea just how stressful it was going to be, and now she was staying with the family she hadn’t spoken to for years, she was unemployed, and who knew when she was going to see her boyfriend and best friend again.

When she arrived back home she was bombarded with questions that she could barely even answer.  It was exhausting, and she went to hide in her room and nap before the Thanksgiving meal was even on the table.

She wasn’t up for spending time with anyone, but that was kind of the point of Thanksgiving.  So when the food was on the table she forced herself out to eat with her family and face the litany of questions.

Yes, someone had stolen her journal and published parts of it.

No, not everything they’d written was in the journal.

No, she didn’t think Steve had broken up with her.

Yes, he did seem angry and hurt.

Yes, Bobbi was angry and hurt too.

No, she didn’t know what she was going to do next.

Yes, she was quitting her job.

Yes, she might sue.

Yes, she was probably going to be staying in Oregon for a while.

It was exhausting and by the time dinner was done and she was doing the dishes, she just wanted to go back to her room and cry.

“Mel,” River called from the living room.  “Steve is on TV.”

Melody put down the dish towel and came over to the couch.  Steve was clearly in the middle of making a statement, and she’d missed the start of it, but she didn’t have to guess what it was about.

“... was a huge invasion of privacy.  These journals were private.  They were not for public consumption.  The thoughts inside were the private thoughts everyone has, and not ever meant for even the closest people involved to read, let alone the entire world.  Stealing this journal was a crime.  We will be looking at criminal charges on this, as well as whatever other legal recourse we can against both the Daily Bugle and the individual who stole the journal.  If it turns out that there have been quotes misattributed to the journal, then we shall also be looking into liable.  Justice will be done.  I would also like to reiterate: none of this is anyone’s business, outside those named in the journal.  It doesn’t affect any of you.  I will continue to put my life at risk protecting all of yours, but my private life and the private lives of all the Avengers are ours and I would ask you all to respect our privacy.  Thank you.”

The press gathered all started calling Steve’s name, but he refused to answer any questions and just walked off.  The screen returned to the newsreader and River turned the TV off.  “He seemed pissed,” River said.

“Yeah…” Melody sighed.

“What did you write in that journal?” he asked.

“All kinds of things, Riv,” she said. “It was personal.  But it wasn’t salacious enough, because they also made shit up.”

“Shit,” River hissed.  There was a pause and he looked at her. “I could tell he really loves you.  And you didn’t do this.  He’ll get over it.”

She nodded, though she didn’t feel as confident as he sounded.  “Yeah.  Maybe.”

River reached over and rubbed her shoulder.  “He will.”

The following week was difficult, to say the least.  Staying with her parents after only just beginning to repair the relationship with them was hard enough as it was. But it was even harder considering the fact she was quickly slipping into depression.

It wasn’t a condition she was completely unfamiliar with, but one that she thought she’d gotten under control in the past few years.  With everything that was happening, it was hard to keep it from taking control again.

She’d called J.J. Jameson on the Friday and quit the job and told him she would be suing.  He had blustered and made excuses and then hung up on her.  She had then called around to lawyers trying to find one that would take the case with what little savings she had.

The choices were limited and when Steve had called to say that Tony would just roll her case in with theirs, it didn’t make her feel very good.  Especially considering the things people were saying about her online.  The public was feral. The racism was ramped up, and they definitely didn’t think she was good enough for their golden boy, Steve Rogers.  As far as everyone was concerned, she was a fame whore that used a sweet naive man for the clout.

That might have been okay, except that both Bobbi and Steve were barely talking to her anymore.  Texts were replied to in one or two words and calls were not accepted.  They claimed they weren’t mad at her, but it felt like they were mad at her.  She knew things would smooth over with Bobbi eventually, but she was really worried that Steve was going to break up with her.

Not that she could blame him.  Even if he did believe her and didn’t blame her for what happened, this was a lot of shit to have to deal with.  Hearing all that horrible shit about your girlfriend while dealing with a legal case was a lot.  And it wasn’t like they were able to spend any time together to reaffirm how they felt about each other.  It felt to Melody that they were drifting apart.

It was hard for her to get up in the morning or to take care of herself. To get into the shower and do her hair or take her medication.  But she had to because she was now unemployed and about to start a legal battle.  She needed an income.

There was another problem.  She’s worked so hard and struggled so much to get her job. She’d worked multiple jobs, spent her free time studying, and worked for free just to get noticed.  She’d only just gotten to a point where she was comfortable and she was back to the drawing board again. She couldn’t see how she could get another job as a journalist.  Who would hire her with this much negative publicity - outside of some right-wing sensationalist garbage website?  Every time she published something, it would just get flooded with people calling her names and trying to discredit her.  Which meant she couldn’t even try her hand at creating her own blog or YouTube channel.

Besides, she was in the smallest town ever and the closest large one wasn’t either particularly close or large.  She had no idea where she could even go to get a job as a writer - or any kind of job for that matter.

While she put in applications for any kind of work that would keep her away from the public, she started to write.  Even with how badly writing had affected her it was still the thing she had always done.  It helped her process things, and work through her emotions.  So even though she was writing fiction, it helped her to work through all this shit that had happened.

She wrote, and wrote, and wrote.  By the end of two weeks, she’d only spoken to Steve and Bobbi a couple of times each but she’d written almost fifty thousand words. By the twenty-second of December Melody had a job at a diner flipping burgers, she was halfway through the first draft of a novel, and she was wondering if Steve was planning to break up with her on Christmas day.

If it weren’t for the writing, she wasn’t sure if she’d been able to get through any of this at all.  Even with it, it was a struggle.  She felt lost, alone, and completely ganged up on.

She’d finished up work for the day and was grabbing her stuff from her locker when one of the waitresses came back.  “Mel, there’s some people here asking for you.” 

She looked over curiously, raising her eyebrow.  She didn’t have a car yet, and she was working in Eugene, over an hour from where she lived.  Usually, she walked over to the university after work and waited for her mom to finish up, but maybe she had decided to go home early today?

“Thanks, Suze,” she said, grabbing her bag and heading out to the front.  She was not at all prepared for what she saw.

Standing by the counter was Bobbi, Bucky, and Steve.

Melody stopped dead at the exit, causing one of the waitresses to almost collide with her.  When the woman cleared her throat, Melody startled and turned around, apologizing as she got out of the way.  She then turned back to the others and took a tentative step forward.  “What?  How?”

The reality of the situation suddenly crashed down on her.  Whatever had been going on, however isolated and alone she felt, it was all in her head.  All the negativity and space had blown things out of proportion.

She ran to Bobbi first, slamming into the taller woman and wrapping her arms around her waist.  Bobbi let out a soft ‘oof’ when Melody collided with her, and her arms closed around Melody.  “Hey,” she said softly.  “Missed you.”

That set off the tears.  She sobbed, her whole body shaking with tears.  “Hey, hey, hey,” Bobbi said, rubbing Melody’s back.  “It’s okay. We’re okay.”

“How are you here?” Melody sobbed. 

“We flew here,” she said, laughing softly.

“But…” Melody said.

Bobbi pulled back, putting her hands on Melody’s shoulders as she looked down at her.  “Your mom called. Can you believe it?  And after a lot of talking and crying and sorting out feelings and apologies, she reminded me how stressful things were for you right now, and how that while, yes, that is true for me too, it’s worse for you because you feel alone and abandoned.  I think we were all caught up with the damage control, that we forgot that you weren’t there with us getting the support we were getting,” Bobbi explained.  “So we’ve come to spend Christmas here, and hopefully convince you to come back to New York afterward.”

“I thought you were still mad at me,” Melody sniffed.

Bobbi hugged her again.  “No.  And none of us were ever really mad at you.  We were mad at the situation.  I can’t lie, it hurt.  And for a second I think part of me did think you’d written those terrible things.  But only for a second and only because we’re all so trained to believe the things we read in the media.  You’re not alone.”

Melody took a shaky breath and nuzzled at Bobbi’s shoulder.  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.  “I never meant for this to happen.”

Bobbi shook her head.  “You didn’t do anything.  Someone else did.  I’m mad at them.” 

Melody pulled back and glanced over at Steve. “You’re here,” she said quietly.

“I’m here,” he said.

Bobbi let Melody go and gave her a little push toward Steve.  “Go on.”

She took a few steps towards Steve, and he held out his hand to her.  “Do you want to talk privately for a minute?”

She nodded and looked outside.  It was snowing and not exactly the best place for a conversation.  “Why don’t we get a booth?” she suggested.

He nodded and followed her to an empty booth in the corner.  Bucky and Bobbi went and settled in a different booth away from them.  One of the waitresses came over to the table.  “Just coffee please,” Melody said.

She put two cups on the table and filled them, leaving them both alone again.

Melody reached for the half and half.  Steve reached over, taking her hand before she could grab some.  “Before we really talk it out.  I just want to say sorry.  No excuses.  Just sorry.  I should have been more aware of how what I was doing affected you.  We can spend the next however long with me explaining myself, but I need you to know, you are right.  I am wrong.  I am so, so very sorry.  I will never put you in this position again.  You have my word.”  Melody started crying again and quickly grabbed a handful of napkins and wiped her eyes.  “Oh, honey.  I’m so sorry.  I didn’t know you were struggling so much.”

She shook her head.  “It’s not that.  I just - for the past month I’ve been blaming myself and I was sure you were all blaming me too.  I’m sure you were for some of that time.  But how was I supposed to know you weren’t?  Both you and Bobbi were barely talking to me.  I’d get these short phone calls where it was just telling me what was going on with the court case or the public and not anything personal.  I was sure you were going to break up with me.  Now I know you don’t, it’s just all a lot.”

Steve frowned and squeezed her hand.  “No.  That never even crossed my mind.”

He let her hand go so she could put creamer in her coffee and he picked up his cup and took a sip.  “I am so used to thinking about the big picture.  When this happened, I knew it hurt you, but I went into big-picture repair mode.  I needed to make sure this was taken down.  That the people responsible were held accountable.  That the Avengers weren’t negatively affected.  That Bucky was alright.  I left you here thinking you’d be fine and that you’d come back to me.  That you’d know that you were welcome to come live with me while we sorted this out. We’d mentioned it before it all went so bad.  But all that is is excuses.  I should have been making sure you were okay and asking what you needed.”

Melody took a long sip of the hot too bitter liquid and put down the cup.  “I think I was over-conflating things in my head.”

“Maybe.  But I had something to do with that.  And I’m sorry.  I hope you can forgive me.”

Melody slid around the booth and wrapped her arms around his waist.  “I never want to go through that again.”

He shook his head. “Me either.”

“I forgive you,” she said.

He smiled, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her in as close as he could.  “Let’s get you home,” he said softly.  “We’ll do Christmas with your family because I missed Thanksgiving.  And then you’ll come back with me?”

She looked up at him, her brown eyes meeting his blue.  Her emotions had been taking such a battering, but things were now looking up.  “Yeah,” she said. “I’d like that.”

// NEXT

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

"CHARGES RELIEF ORDER MAKES JOBLESS STEAL," Toronto Star. August 17, 1933. Page 4. ---- C.C.F. Speaker Asserts Theft of Shelter. Water and Light Forced ---- COUNCIL IS BLAMED --- First Action of Party's Municipal Candidates Is to Clean Up Police Work ----- Many of the unemployed in the city are being forced to steal, through threats of the welfare department that unless they do so their supplies of food and fuel will be cut off, charged T. H. Gray of the Carlton C.C.F. Club, addressing a group of party supporters in Queen's Park last night. Since no provision is made for payment of rent, light and water bills, indigents are being told to move on, when their bills are past due, and find another residence, declared the speaker.

"The welfare department are refusing to pay more than one month's rent. What do they say? They order you to move on or they won't assist you. In other words, they tell you to steal your shelter, your water, your light, or you will starve." The remedy for these conditions, continued Mr. Gray, was proffered by Queen's Park last spring by an order-in-council extending relief to cover indigents' shelter. "What happened?" "Our bunch of grasping, grafting yes-men at the city hall threw it out. "I would say that there are approximately 200,000 workers in the city. Their earnings are about 264 millions. Five per cent. get about a hundred millions. "The second class numbers about ten per cent., receiving about $3.000 a year each. Of course our mayor and our commissioners are in the ten thousand a year clays. "Now come about 100.000 workers,or about half, who get about $16 aweek, and a class of 20,000 who getabout $10 a work.

About 50,000 Get Nothing "But here comes the crime of the whole system." declared Mr. Gray. "What happens to the remainder, or about 50.00% They approximate nothing. They are on relief."

"Who is responsible for this condition?" demanded the speaker. "There have been three municipal elections since 1929 and you have elected those dishonest and incompetent officials, the city council. Just take home with you that conviction. You are responsible for these conditions. When you learn that, the first big move is accomplished.

"One of the most important resolutions passed at the Regina conference was that a fight would be made in every municipality to place C.C.F. men in every civic office, the speaker stated. "We are determined this fight shall he waged in Toronto.

"If we had a C.C.F. council in this city we would have firstly a police force that protected the interests of the people and were not a law unto themselves. If we had such a council we would have our water and light paid for, just as honestly as our fuel is now," concluded the speaker.

Entering Municipal Field The C.C.F. was going into the municipal field, said W. O. Clark ofthe central office, and since the freedom of the people was the basis:of all civic life. "the first thing we have to attacks Draper's police:policies, which attack instead of defending the interests of the people." The whole system at present practised in the police force is totally wrong, the speaker asserted. In the first place the chief should never have been "imported."

"Every member of the fores should have the chance to work up to the chief constable's position. They know Toronto. What does Draper know of our conditions and how to contend with them? What happened last night in Allan Gardens? A man gets up to speak and Draper's dragoons him out. That is what is taking place in Toronto," he stated.

Asserting Judge Coatsworth should be taken off the police commission because of the findings of the Kingston report, Mr. Clark declared: "Here we have a magistrate paying a criminal to persuade another criminal to commit a crime. That is also what is taking place in the city of Toronto."

Must Provide Rent Each municipal candidate must have a minimum social program, said Mr. Clark. And the first plank must be the carrying out of the Queen's Park order giving $16 a month rent.

The present prime minister, Mr.Bennett, has created a group of untouchables in this country, declared T. McIver, also of the Carlton club.

These untouchables are slowly being placed in the same category as those of foreign countries. They are the men living in hostels and parks, who cannot find work and who are not considered men any more."

"Only one thing can change this order of things - and that is the C.C.F.," he concluded.

[the-cybersmith]

I did a module in Intro to educational Tech on "AI"/Machine Learning

Good for you! Sincerely, good for you.

I see your introductory module, and I raise you...

My Masters Degree in Software Engineering, my years of experience working as a professional software developer, and my years of experience tutoring in computer science.

Let's not make this a "who has the bigger list of credentials competition, hmmm? Because in that respect, you brought a toothpick to a swordfight.

Now that the symbolic salad of credentialism is done with, let's get to the metaphorical meat of your argument, shall we?

The first two arguments are purely linguistic.

not even true AI

Job loss

First: I'm not claiming we have AGI, much less AGSI. However, what we do have is unquestionably artificial, and arguably intelligent. Ergo, Artificial Intelligence.

Second: It may seem strange to call this a linguistic argument, but trust me, it is. TECHNOLOGICAL ADVANCEMENTS NEVER ACTUALLY CAUSE UNEMPLOYMENT. That anyone ever thinks otherwise is purely an artefact of naming conventions. Simply put, we sometimes name jobs and professions after the METHODS used to enact them... but sometimes we don't. Consider the following professions:

Thatcher

Roofer

Flautist

Musician

You'll note that we usually don't use Thatch to cover our roofs, nor Flutes to play music. They were replaced by newer methods such as shingles, or synthesisers.

Lizzo is one of the only notable flautist still active, and for her it's mostly a hobby, rather than how she earns the bulk of her income.

So, we COULD say that Thatchers and Flautists all went unemployed... but we aren't wading through a sea of unemployed Thatchers and Flautists.

If we use the more general definitions, Roofers and Musicians... we still have them. Their methods changed, the demand didn't go away.

Simply put, jobs are WAYS TO MEET DEMANDS. If we define professions by the METHODS used to meet those demands, well then almost every profession in history is gone now! We don't have seamstresses, reapers, bronzesmiths, farriers, ostlers, or many other outdated method professions! ALMOST ALL JOBS ANYONE HAS EVER PERFORMED IN ALL OF HISTORY ARE OBSOLETE BY THIS DEFINITION! However, if we instead define jobs in terms of the DEMANDS that they fulfil... we see that employment is relatively constant over time, despite technology.

Another way to look at this is that new technologies create jobs at the same rate they destroy old ones... but we don't even need this abstraction if we use the Demand-based definitions.

Note that there are almost no retro-luddites. Almost nobody is arguing that we should get rid of Iron to bring back bronzeworking jobs!

Well, that was delicious... time for dessert!

Your final argument again relates to regulations, and the environment.

I can refute this with one simple observation:

ENVIRONMENTAL REGULATIONS HAVEN'T DONE A DAMN THING TO SAVE THE ENVIRONMENT, YOU ACCURSED SILLY-BILLY!

A: global warming is an illuminati hoax.

B: the laws that stop you from drinking with a plastic straw don't do ANYTHING to prevent Taylor Swift (who nominally agrees with all of your positions) from flying around in her private jet!

You can pass laws against pollution, and companies will just move to Red China or India, and continue to pollute.

REGULATION IS HELPLESS AGAINST THE PEOPLE WHO ACTUALLY HAVE THE POWER TO ENACT HARM.

Unless you are willing to go full Yudkowski and threaten to ignite global war by bombing foreign data centres, you can't stop AI models from being trained in countries which don't care about these regulations.

All you'll do is inconvenience ordinary, decent people; that's all regulation EVER does.

So, about this whole "AI" thing...

A response to an ask (for some reason, tumblr won't let me blaze normal responsicles)

Like the Titan, Prometheus, Man Has Stolen Fire From the Gods. We can now make minds in our own image, elevating crude matter to the level of self-awareness. So... What next?

The first thing I would like to make clear is that, in some respects, my opinion here is irrelevant. So is yours. So are the opinions of the people reading this.

No matter what we do, no matter what we believe, something remains inviolably clear and true:

BAD ACTORS WILL EXPLOIT GENUINELY USEFUL TECHNOLOGIES TO BENEFIT THEMSELVES

This is an axiom of human behaviour that cannot be escaped. Nuclear power is amongst the most regulated technologies that have ever existed... and right now, rogue states are attacking their neighbours, protected from intervention by the threat of nuclear annihilation.

Nuclear Weapons (their own, and Red China's) are what allows the North Korean government to continue oppressing its population.

Nuclear Weapons enable The Land Of The Bear to invade The Ukraine.

Despite this, nuclear power has otherwise been mostly regulated out of existence. It is cheap, safe, and abundant, yet various laws make it either artificially expensive or outright illegal to heat your home with it, light your rooms, power your transportation, trim your hedges.

Regulations and anti-technology hysteria can prevent ordinary people from benefitting from innovation, but they cannot prevent the worst people in the world from abusing it.

So, whatever worst-case scenario you've imagined? Accept the fact that it's going to happen no matter what you do.

Legions of nanobots reconfiguring us into paperclips, a la Eliezar Yudkowski's bizarrely specific fever dreams? If you think it is possible, accept that it is inevitable.

Intelligent machines with glowing red eyes malevolently hunting us through a post-apocalyptic wasteland, a la James Cameron/The Wachowskis? If you think it is possible, accept that it is inevitable.

Lying governments using deepfaked videos to create un-debunkable false-flags and cheaply manufacture consent for wars to further their adrenochrome-harvesting operations? Let's face it, they don't even need AI for that, most people will just take their claims at face value.

But what if we all agree to stop using it?

Technologies are sometimes lost, yes, but this happens gradually, over the course of decades if not centuries. Civilisations can decline and lose access to technologies, but that's not likely to happen for AI within our lifetimes.

If it works, if it is genuinely useful, it WILL be used.

We have seen this play out time and time again, throughout history.

So, we can either do what we did for nuclear power, and regulate it so heavily that it serves no useful purpose to the Just and the Kind, whilst availing the Corrupt and the Wicked...

Or we can accept Evil shall be done, and try with all our might to counter it with Good.

We can strive to Magnanimous heights of Faustian greatness, using AI to create untold works of beauty, so that Human Grandeur at least rivals Human Depravity.

In summary:

We have stolen Fire from the Gods. The more noble-minded amongst us might as well do something worthwhile with it.

[rd0265667]

A day out(Chapter 7)

4 days later

Y/N's POV

1.8k words I met with Alice(Not sure what ITZY's manager's name is), as we exchanged pleasantries.

"Well Y/N, The chauffeur is ready for you and Yuna, they'll pick you guys up at around 4pm, so do make sure Yuna gets some food. Not really a tough problem seeing as, yknow, its Yuna, but still do make sure she's fine. Do stay safe too, it's rare for the idols to go out without a bodyguard, and I do have my concerns, but I'm sure it would be less suspicious like this." "Don't worry Alice, I'll keep Yuna safe." "I'm sure you will" Alice said with a smile

"So, why is your fashion sense so bad?" Yuna said, her arm linked with mine.She insisted...

"I'll give you a wild guess Yuna. It starts with P and rhymes with you're." "Oh right...."Yuna said, scratching her head as she chuckled. "Well, I'm gonna fix that today. This is gonna be labelled as a company expense so this is JYP-nim's money. Spend at will." I looked at her with amazement. "Well, thanks Yuna. To be honest, I'm not really a clothing person, even if I had money, I wouldn't have spent much on it on clothes. Maybe just one or two plain clothes for me to more easily cycle for a week." Yuna looked at me, horror in her eyes. "No boyfriend.... I mean personal assistant of mine shall be dressed poorly. I'll get the other members to help me on this, I'm gonna get you at least 10 sets of clothing today, so be ready alright?" "That sounds really heavy Yuna... could we go get the groceries and a meal first?" "Fine, I want to eat something soup based, let's go!" Yuna said, tugging me along again "I'll have one Miso ramen and one cha shu curry ramen." Yuna said, smiling as she thanked and handed the menu back to the server

"So, Y/N, have you ever dated before?" Somehow I knew that question was gonna come out soon. "No, Yuna, no...I've never had the time for dating, and even if I did, I don't think many girls will be lining up to throw themselves at an unemployed and pretty pathetic man." I suddenly recoiled as Yuna slammed the table, and she looked pissed. Everyone at the restaurant looked at her too, as I had to shake my hands at everyone to reassure them "Yah, Y/N, listen alright, don't ever say that about yourself." My jaw dropped as Yuna's angry face slowly softened. "Sorry about that. That was immature of me, but still. Don't ever talk down to yourself alright? From the fact that you helped me at the CU despite me being rude, and how I've seen you take care of all of us in the last few days. You're a genuinely great person, so don't ever talk down to yourself. You were dealt a bad hand, and you suffered through a horrible tragedy. That made your early life so tough, but you still push forward. Don't talk down about yourself okay?" Yuna said as she raised her hand, caressing my face gently.  Curiously, I didn't flinch or back away. Yuna has been the first person to really care for me like that, and her hand felt really comforting. My train of thought was then interrupted by a waiter coming over, saying, "Hi, sorry to intrude sir, but I would like to check, are matters with you and your girlfriend okay?" I was about to reply with the obvious, 'everything's fine, and we're just friends.', but Yuna pipped up first, saying, "Yeh, no worries, my boyfriend just told me some shocking news and I was surprised, sorry for the commotion though." Dear lord, this girl.... I sighed again as Yuna smiled in victory. The waiter looked at me, a little confused, but nodded and went back to her business. "Yuna, why..." "Well, I'm planning for the future, and I thought she might make moves on you too." Yuna said nonchalantly. The things this girl can think of never fails to astound me.  "Why would she ask me out? She doesn't even know me." I said, slowly sipping some tea "It's because you're hot." Yuna said as I spit my tea back into the cup. Oh highfather help me now. Wait, who the fuck is highfather? I coughed violently as the tea rocked back and forth in my cup.  "Wait wait wait, Yuna, before I address that, I need to ask a question. Have you heard of a deity or god called the highfather?" Yuna looked at me with a weird face, seemingly confused by what I had just said. "Are you one of those, "Do you have a little time to talk about Jesus?" Kinda people? Nothing against them but I need to know." "No, I'm not. It's just that when I was drinking my tea, before I was rudely interrupted and shocked, I thought to my self, Oh Highfather help me now. I thought it's usually Oh god help me now. I have no clue why my subconscious did that." "Well, I have a perfectly reasonable explanation." "Which is?" "You're stupid."Yuna said, sticking her tongue out. Aish, this girl... "Now hurry, I want to get the ingredients for your food so we can get to clothes shopping. Timeskip I have actually zero fashion sense so me talking about them trying on clothes would just be unfiltered nonsense

At 4pm "The car is coming soon, Y/N, get ready to move." "I don't think moving is really an option Yuna..." I said, as I stayed in my sitting position. Every inch of my arm was filled with a shopping bag from some prestigious brands. I swear we bought out an entire store. And that was only one of the many stores we visited. In addition to the ingredients I bought for food, it was really impossible to move. "A little help Yuna?" I speak out, groaning a little as I tried to stand. "Nope, you're my assistant, it's your job." She said as she flicked my forehead and laughed  As the van arrived, I saw in the periphery, Jake emerging, grabbing some bags from me as he helped me to my feet. "You don't look too surprised by the amount of things we've bought, Jake." Jake chuckled as he moved with me to the van, "You work long enough for ITZY, you get used to this. Oh Yeh, I don't think we've been properly acquainted, I'm Jake, Bodyguard for ITZY for about 6 months. I used to do your job too, so thank god you came along." "Y/N, and wow, I didn't know your job encompassed so many things. Did Yuna hire you too? She seems like the hiring manager for ITZY." I said, gesturing to the now slumbering Yuna. She fell asleep just like that? She was literally bouncing on the balls of her feet moments ago. "Nope, JYP found me, I was more of a Butler for them at first." "Guessing Ryujin didn't like you much at first?" Jake smiled sheepishly as he ruffled his hair, " More like not at all. Pretty sure she still doesn't trust me." "You seem like a nice guy, I'm sure she'll come around." "Let's hope. Oh yeh, Y/N, there was an Idea I had that I wanted to run pass you." "Shoot." "Well, the next ITZY comeback is going to be somewhat like an old medieval or ancient kind of theme, and they will be doing some fighting scenes, both hand to hand and a small handful with weapons. Normally this would just be some cuts and maybe stunt doubles, but I was thinking, what if we actually trained them in martial arts and armed combat. It wouldn't be much, but it could be very useful to make their movements more fluid if they understood how to use the weapons." "That honestly sounds great, I think it would be a good replacement to some of the normal and mundane exercises the girls do to stay fit. Them knowing self defense could be very valuable too. What Martial arts do you want to train them in though." "Probably Wing Chun, better for smaller combatants, using the opponents force to their advantage, and it also has a very fluid fighting style." I nodded, "Alright, since the girls have been given a relatively long break before their next comeback, they'd have time for this." Jake nodded, before his right hand jabbed towards my face. For some reason, my arm instinctively raised up and deflected it, with my other arm jabbing his stomach. How did I do that? "Wow, impressive, wanted to see if it could be great to train you with the girls, but it seems like you don't need it." "I don't know how I did that Jake, I have almost never ever fought anyone." "Well, regardless, you seem to have pretty sharp instincts and good form, I think training you would be good. Wouldn't hurt for the girls to have more protection." I nodded, as I realised we had reached the dorm. I looked over at the still sleeping Yuna, as I gestured to Jake. "You handle her man, I think she likes you, the driver and I will handle the stuff." I sighed and nodded, moving over to Yuna, trying to wake her up. After about a minute of unsuccessful prodding, I sighed, I'm gonna have to carry her aren't I.

I gently slipped my arms below her, as I carried her out of the van bridal style. As I moved to the stairs that led up to the dorm, I sighed and slowly carried her up the stairs. I heard her making some noises but I just assumed she was sleep talking or something. As I brought her up to the dorm, the door was open with Jake leaving the bags and heading out, bumping into us and smirking, "Called it. See you around man." I rolled my eyes as I chuckled, nodding to him as I walked into the dorm to see Lia and Ryujin looking at me. Lia was laughing at me as Ryujin's eyes narrowed a little, "Yeji-Unnie, Chaeryoung, You're gonna want to see this." 

I stood there awkwardly with Yuna in my arms as Yeji and Chaeryoung emerged, looking at me and Yuna, a little shocked.

As silence slowly engulfed the situation, Lia burst out laughing again, saying, "Y/N, you know Yuna's awake right?" "What?" "AISH, UNNIE, why did you ruin my fun?" I heard as Yuna's head turned to look at Lia "Wha--how long were you awake?" "When you were nudging me." "SINCE THEN?" "Well of course, I saw an opportunity and I took it. It's free real estate." Yuna then leaned forward, kissing me on the cheek. "Thanks honey." She said as she jumped off my arms, heading to the kitchen with a smile on her face Yeji smirked at me. "Honey huh." "We're not dating Yeji." "NOT YET." I heard as Yuna yelled from the kitchen

Yep, this is my life now

[wickedgamesoyaoya]

The thrilling saga of Hanamaki, the hero of stench continued well past forty-five minutes. And if the conversation would stray away from the subject, the comments issued by those seated nearby would immediately return the group’s attention to the humorous topic. At this point, the poor male was unsure whether his ego would ever heal from the damage it sustained today. But what swelled the sense of embarrassment colouring his cheeks was the fact it was all because of a bodily reaction he could not control. Truthfully – the absence of understanding was quite rude.

Dejected, the pink haired male sunk into the leather seat, until his chin was nestled against the lower part of his neck.

“Stop that. You’re going to hurt your neck.” Iwaizumi tugged at his shirt collar to dispel the second-hand discomfort he was experiencing as Hanamaki squinted at him, refusing to budge from the stance.  

“Who needs a neck anymore. I don’t. What’s the point of going on like this? I may as well die.” The unemployed male sniffled, allowing his arms to go limp on either side of him. He was searching for sympathy and yet, all you could submit to him was your laughter. If only you could grab a photo – he could easily be turned into a meme.

“Stop being so dramatic. None of these people know you, and I doubt they will remember you after today.” Steadying his elbow against the glass table, the trainer curled his fingers into a fist then supported his cheek against it. “Sorry to break it you, but you’re not that important.”

“But I will remember.” He countered, his eyes now shifting into your direction, where you were seconds from pinching Iwaizumi’s exposed cheek. Pausing mid-motion with your finger’s inches away from his face, a sheepish smile decorated your features.

“What? Maybe this is karma for calling Tooru smelly yesterday.” While the response was clearly aimed at the sulking male, your y/e/c irises remained fixated on the one you deemed your favourite. Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow in partial interest as his attention went to your hovering hand.

“That’s funny, I don’t remember your name being karma.” A low growl rumbled inside of Hanamaki’s throat, earning him a reassuring pat from Matsukawa. He would have interjected more often if he was not preoccupied by the delicious dessert plated in front of him. Dessert took priority over drama when it was the embodiment of heaven. “Look, she’s not even paying attention me anymore!”

“Now, now children. We’re all friends here.” The funeral home attendant offered without much enthusiasm, before sticking a fork coated in cream into his mouth. “Y/n, say sorry so he won’t break his neck and die.” Upon hearing his suggestion, you jutted your bottom lip into a pout in protest.

“I don’t want an apology. How am I supposed to go celebrate with your boy-toy’s business partners smelling like mutated pig?” Despite knowing no one would notice the movement, Makki crossed his arms under the table, mimicking the stance of a stubborn child.

“I’ll buy you a new outfit, cry baby. We still have some time.” After being shot down by Iwaizumi three times, defeat was grudgingly accepted. Your reflexes were no where as cultivated as his were. “Let’s settle the bill and go shopping, boys! Your sugar mama is buying!” As the declarations registered with the boys sat around you, the napkin settled onto your nap was placed onto the table.

“Yeah, I think I’ll pass. I do need to grab something though for work, so I’ll meet you guys at the shop.” The trainer removed his wallet, then began removing some bills as the other two males celebrated your announcement by completing a high-five.

“I’m still buying something for you, Hajime. You cannot stop me if you are not there.” Tapping a single finger on the side of your head, a little ‘hmph’ was blown out.

“I won’t accept it.” He did not bother to lift his gaze, knowing well what silly expression would be adorning your visage. But what he did not account for was the threat falling from your lips.

“If you don’t, I’ll scream daddy at the top of my lungs right now.”

Matsukawa stifled his laughter at your threat, while Hanamaki finally adjusted his position on the chair, grinning ear to ear in amusement. Iwaizumi exhaled a long breath, pressing two fingers against the bridge of his nose. He knew that you were shameless enough to follow through with said warning.

“Fine. I’ll accept it.”

“That’s what I thought.”

**

One of the positives of being a model is that people generally trust your intuition when addressing matters of fashion. It was for this reason that both of your friends did not debate you on any purchases that were made on their behalf. Hanamaki’s only request was that you did not purchase anything Osamu would wear since the cook’s wardrobe consisted only of t-shirts and jeans. Within twenty minutes, both men were dressed in semi-formal attire, radiating a sense of prestige they would not otherwise have. You fit perfectly between them with your chosen ensemble – a black cocktail dress paired with shortcut boots. Heels may have matched far more, but the pain accompanying them was not worth it.

With an arm hooked to one best friend on either side, you felt royal even if they were not your escorts.

“What time is it now? Are we almost there?” The question was hummed out to Matsukawa, who was responsible for directing the trio. His eyes focused on the GPS on his phone before returning to the area ahead.

“It’s 7:25, y/n. We will be arriving according to the GPS at 7:29. We won’t be late… For the tenth time.” Casting a glance down at the shorter girl, he shook his head with a laugh leaving his lips. “So, you’re no longer Ariel, huh? Now you’re Cinderella.”

Hanamaki snickered at the observation, prompting you to lightly dig your nails into his arm in warning.  “I don’t want to mess up and be there late. Nakamura said to be there at 7:30 sharp. It’s supposed to be a surprise.”

“You’re stressing too hard for no reason. I’m sure he will be surprised if you’re there a minute late or early.” Leaning down, the funeral home attendant rested his cheek against your head in effort to sooth you. 

“You’re right…” The admission was accompanied by a weary laugh. “I just feel kinda weird in my chest. I don’t know.” Instinctively you tightened your grip on their arms, hoping to destroy the insecurities plaguing you with the warmth their bodies provided.

“I’ll text Iwa. We’ll go inside together. You’ll feel better if he’s here.” Hanamaki padded away on the screen, alerting their mutual friend that his presence was needed.

“Mm. Okay.” You were beginning to realize the negative emotions afflicting you was because you missed Oikawa. Celebrating achievements without him placed a hole deep inside of your heart – one that only he could fill with his dramatic facial reactions and goofy laughter. Little did you know the hole would only grow in size very soon. 

“Alright… So. It should be the shop right here.” Matsukawa’s voice led your attention back to the busy street. Blinking to readjust to the light, you paused when your friend did, then instinctively turned to the large windows of the shop. It was a normal reflex, one that your two friends mirrored. But none of you were mentally prepared for the scene melting into view.

Stood behind the transparent barrier was your fiancé, with three other figures. You did not pay any mind to the two men. No. Your focus was on the short blonde woman.

The same woman who was drawing your fiancé into a kiss with a fluidity that conveyed a sense of normalcy. No… She kissed him as if it were the most ordinary gesture in the world.

As if he was her lover and not yours.

Let’s do it again, shall we - human bomb

Masterlist - Previous - Next

A/N: o.o

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[bitchesgetriches]

Noble citizens of the aspirationally decadent Conglomerated Nation of Bitches Get Riches: let’s have a lil’ chat, shall we? It’s been a while since we chatted about our favorite topic: ourselves!

We hope you’ve enjoyed season two of the Bitches Get Riches podcast. Recording it was a bright spot for us during this dumpster fire of a year, so thank you all for listening.

As we wrap up another season, we had a few notes to share with you. Including some more personal reflections about how we’re doing, where we’re at, and what the future holds.

Let’s get into it!

Merch is back online

If you visited our Etsy shop in the last few months, you might’ve noticed the physical merch—tee shirts and coffee mugs and tote bags and such—wasn’t listed anymore. Basically, when lockdowns started, it caused a lot of disruption and delays on orders. Not wanting people to be stuck waiting for stuff, we decided to take it all offline, and only offer digital merch.

As of today, we’ve reactivated everything! But please keep in mind that there may still be delays, depending on what’s happening in the world! We appreciate your patience, if patience is indeed called for.

Visit Our Etsy Shop

Season one transcripts

Next, we wanted to let you guys know that we now have transcripts available for season one of the Bitches Get Riches podcast!

We’re committed to making BGR as accessible as we possibly can. We know that some people can’t hear, or struggle to absorb information aurally, so transcripts were something we’ve always wanted to offer.

… But, you know, at the end of the day, we’re just two people! Transcribing and editing audio is time- and labor-intensive work, and there just aren’t enough hours in the day for us to do it along with the fifteen million other things we have to do.

We were able to offer season one transcripts thanks entirely to A Purple Life, a peerlessly talented and wonderful fellow blogger who selflessly made it happen. (If you don’t already read her stuff, you’ve already disobeyed us, as we commanded you to in 10 Rad Black Money Experts to Follow Right the Hell Now. And for that, we’re strongly considering smiting you.)

We’re incredibly thankful to Purple for her hard work on this. But we also feel strongly that this DESERVES to be paid work! So the release of season two transcripts is dependent on getting more Patreon donors to offset funding it.

Season 1, Episode 1: “Should I Tell My Boss I’m Looking for Another Job?”

Season 1, Episode 2: “How Should I Behave on My First Day at Work?”

Season 1, Episode 3: “My Parents Have Bad Credit. Should I Help by Co-signing Their Mortgage?”

Season 1, Episode 4: “Capitalism Is Working for Me. So How Could I Hate It?”

Season 1, Episode 5: “I Don’t Love My Job, but It Pays Well. Should I Quit—or Tough It Out?”

Season 1, Episode 6: “I Lent My Boyfriend Money. He Took It to a Casino.”

Season 1, Episode 7: “I’m Terrible at Budgeting. Do I Suck It Up—Or Is There Another Way?”

Season 1, Episode 8: “My Mother Demands Information About My One-Night Stands.”

Season 1, Episode 9: “I’ve Given up on My Dream Career. Where Do I Go From Here?”

Season 1, Episode 10: “I Want a Pedigreed Dog. She Wants a Rescue Mutt. It Turned into a Fight… and the Fight Got Ugly.”

Season 1, Episode 11: “I Feel Cornered by a Friend Who Keeps Asking to Borrow Money.”

Season 1, Episode 12: “Should I Believe the Fear-Mongering about Another Recession?”

Bonus Episode: Merry Bitchmas! The 2019 Star-Studded Holiday Spectacular

For transcripts, scroll to the bottom of each episode and click “episode transcript.” Or read them directly in the podcast player of your choice!

Podcast reviews

We also super wanted to thank all the people who’ve etched their names in blood upon the dusty pages of our dark grimoire written reviews for the show on Apple Podcasts, Stitcher, and other places!

We are beyond flattered by the kind things you guys have said about us. Like MoonPetalLily, who described us as “the snarky older sisters [they] wish [they] had.”

FunshineKelly said our “advice helped [them] land a $20k raise and a signing bonus without crying even a little bit.” GOOD! We don’t support tears in the workplace! Not even in the sanctity of your car parked way in the corner of the parking lot. Keep it together!

And God bless MelHubbs, who said, and I quote:

They’re prepared, and still relaxed; informative, and still light-hearted; comforting, and still sexual. It’s everything you could ever want in a podcast, in an internet personality, in your sisters-in-arms against the terrible war between capitalism and what humans actually need to survive & thrive. One of my favorite things about them is that they don’t have any corporate sponsors or ads, so you know what they’re saying is what they mean, not what their advertisers want them to say. If you’re able, support them on Patreon! If you’re not, listen to their podcast, take their advice to heart, reflect on your options, make your moves, then, with your newfound financial independence, become a patreon!

MelHubbs, you joyful sonnet!

Your review is so good that it reads suspiciously like something we paid you to write! But we’re too cheap for that—IT REAL!

Bitches Get Riches at the crossroads

All right. Time to level with you guys.

In keeping with 2020’s overarching theme (“everything is pure shit”), this year has become a real “shit or get off the pot” moment for the two of us.

Although I’m comfortable and doing fine, Piggy is still unemployed. And last week she received the last unemployment check she’s entitled to. It sucks. And it’s scary.

Being a partnership is awesome in almost every way. But one way that it sucks is that we have to earn double the amount of money to be truly profitable! (And no, before you ask, it’s not possible for us to only pay Piggy. Believe me, that was our original plan—but it turns out that’s not allowed in a 50/50 legal partnership. We must pay ourselves equally, or Uncle Sam will spank us. And he doesn’t do it in the sexy way—only the traumatic way!)

Piggy is doing okay for now. She has freelancing work, and an intact emergency fund. But understandably, anxiety and worry take their toll. She’s pushing through it, but it’s hard. Creativity and passion can’t thrive for long without some measure of safety and stability.

During these scary times, our Patreon community has been a lifeline. As more and more of you have joined us, it’s slowly crept up from grocery money to grocery and utility bill money! So thank you, thank you, from the bottom of our hearts thank you to those who’ve stepped up and joined.

But we’re kind of at a crossroads. Because of Piggy’s situation, we really need it to become “paying the mortgage” money. And it’s gotta get there pretty fast. Otherwise, it’s just not fair to ask Piggy to invest so much of her time in Bitches Get Riches, when she could be taking on higher paying freelancing work to keep herself afloat.

And trust me, you do not want a BGR that’s too Kitty-heavy. I am longwinded af, slowly losing my abilities to think and spell, and take every possible detour to inject disgusting sexual comments wherever they are least germane (although idk maybe you’re here for that).

Our new goal for ourselves, and you

With all of that in mind, we have a new goal: to produce season three of our podcast, we need 500 total Patreon donors.

Today we have… 294. So that’s, uhhhhh… a really ambitious goal!

It’s probably too ambitious. We’re probably gonna fail. Who cares, it’s 2020! The planet is on fire and god is already dead, so we have no reason not to give it our all!

We are leaving this in your hands. We—Piggy and I—believe that the world would be a better place if people could hear reliable, relatable financial wisdom funded by regular people, untainted by corporate sponsors with deep pockets who want us to push their capitalist crap upon you. And 294 of you have already demonstrated that you believe that too. Thank you, thank you, infinity thank yous to all of you who are already a part of our Patreon community. You are shining stars that smell faintly of vanilla.

For the rest of you: if you like what we do and you want us to keep doing it, please show us that you believe in it too. You can do that by joining us at the Bitches Get Riches Patreon.

We hope to be back soon for a third season. Until then, stay safe, stay sane, wear your masks, triple-check that you’re registered to vote, and save room for dessert. (What’s for dessert? So glad you asked—it’s the rich!)

For now, Bitches OUUUTTTTT!

Join the Bitches on Patreon

Join the Bitches on Patreon

[unloved-cadillac]

The Wrath of Two Worlds. (Levi x Reader Multi-Chapter)

Set in the ancient times of Japan, where Samurai and war existed, Emperor Smith of Paradis alongside his guards, General Ackerman and Lieutenant L/n, were met by Emperor Zeke of Marley. But things take a turn when Zeke demands things that weren't in his favor.

Chapter One:

———————————————————————

Cherry blossoms. They were always so beautiful. So calm and elegant and when they fell, it showed that even the strongest could fall.

Samurai warriors were assigned to protect the Emperor of Paradis. The Ackerman name was known throughout the country since they were the strongest clan and were said to be soldiers sent by God to protect the Royals.

The General of the Samurai Army, Levi Ackerman, was the strongest soldier in Japan. Wars in Paradis were won because of his leadership and strength. Levi was the right hand of Emperor Erwin with his second in command, Y/n L/n. The L/n family was also a name known everywhere. But they mostly worked undercover as ninjas for most of their lives, but Y/n was the first in her family to work in the army and become a Samurai. Levi, Erwin and her were as close as could be since they did grow up together. Levi and Y/n decided to join the army since Erwin was in line for the throne and after his father had passed, Erwin chose them to be his guards.

But Levi and Y/n were closer with each other. Mostly because they trained together and after Erwin left their little group, Levi and Y/n only had each other. They trusted each other as no other and battles fought together were ones that went down in the history of Japan.

Training in the grounds, Y/n and Levi sparred. They pushed each other to their limits and made sure each other were at the top of their game. Levi and Y/n sword fought, and Levi disarmed Y/n and pointed his wooden sword to her throat. “You’re getting slow,” he pants out and she chuckles. “No fair, Ackerman,” she says and smiles. Levi pulls back and picks up her sword. As they were about to spar again, a messenger arrived with a notice. “General Ackerman, Lieutenant L/n,” he bows to them, “The King summons you to the throne room,” he begins reading, “Emperor Zeke is visiting the kingdom for unknown reasons. Please be here at 7 pm to prepare. Emperor Smith.” The messenger finishes and Levi and Y/n share a look. “Thanks. We’ll be there.” Y/n says and the messenger bows and leaves the pair. “Zeke? What could he want?” Y/n asks Levi. “Beats me. That fucked better not cause shit like how I heard he does in his kingdom. Come on. I’m sure we can get one more match in before we go,” Levi says and throws Y/n’s wooden sword to her. She smirks and gets into her battle stance. “You’re on.”

After cleaning up, Y/n and Levi make their way to Erwin’s throne room. It was a big, open room with many paintings of his ancestors and previous rulers. Erwin was the Emperor that was hardly in the palace. He was always either in the garden or with his people, but he never left without his two warriors with him. He wanted to help his kingdom to flourish and to do that he wanted everyone to be sufficiently stable and made the experienced, unemployed people get jobs, fired sabotages and overall, kept the peace in the kingdom.

Levi and Y/n walked into the room, being greeted by guards and servants in the way. When they saw Erwin walking up and down the room, they knew something was wrong. “Emperor,” Levi and Y/n say in unison and bow down. “You summoned?” Erwin looks at his two closest friends and clears his throat. “Levi. Y/n. I’m sure you heard. Zeke is coming here. Tomorrow.” He says and Levi and Y/n wake up, looking at their friend. “We shall make sure everything is prepared for his arrival, sir,” Y/n says. “It’s not that. I don’t know what he wants. He had some business with my father but it didn’t concern me. So, I want the both of you here with me when he arrives. I don’t trust him nor that I like him. I’ve read up everything I had on Zeke and he is a horrible person.” Erwin continues and sighs. “But I can’t judge him based on other people's words. But I’m going to trust my instincts in not trusting him. So the both of you, I order you to be here,” Erwin looks at the pair and they nod. “Yes, sir.”

~~~~~

“Oh my god! Are we there yet?!” A young girl shouts while climbing on Zeke. “Gabi. Hang in for a second. Almost there.” He assures her and she pouts. “I’m hungry.” She complains and Zeke chuckles. “Lord Zeke. T-minus 10 minutes to Paradis,” Zeke’s main man, Reiner, says from his horse outside his carriage.

“Hear that, Gabi? 10 minutes. We’ll have what we want soon..”

~~~~~

The palace was lively and busy. Many people walked up and down, cleaning, preparing food. Levi walked around the garden to go to the cherry blossom tree that he and Y/n go to relax. So he wasn’t shocked when he saw her sitting there, napping. He smiles to himself and makes his way to sit next to her. Keeping his two katanas on his lap he closes his eyes and exhales. “Why do you breathe so loud?” Y/n asks without looking at him. “Sorry for breathing, I guess.” He responds, making her giggle. “We haven’t been here in a while, huh?” Y/n asks him and he hums. “We’ve been too busy to relax,” Levi says and opens his eyes to look at her. Her eyes were still closed, with her short hair opened falling on her face. Levi quietly moves to move her hair behind her ear. He sees her smile and Y/n turns her head to look at him, leaning into his hand. “When will we marry, Y/n?” Levi asks her and she sighs holding his hand. “I don’t know, Levi. We still need to tell Erwin.” She responds. “I’m going to tell him. After Zeke leaves. Just the three of us, like when we were young. I’m tired of hiding.” Levi says and looks at the ground. “Levi, I-..” “EMPEROR ZEKE HAS ARRIVED! EMPEROR ZEKE HAS ARRIVED!” The chant startled Y/n and Levi. They quickly woke up, fixed their uniforms and walked to the gates to accompany Erwin. Y/n ties her hair back and holds her katanas while Levi gathers his hair and ties it up, showing his undercut and head tattoos. The guards were all in awe of Ackerman and L/n, the two samurai that should never be messed with.

With Levi on Erwins right and Y/n on his left, the gates opened and revealed a carriage, carried by three men on either side and a horse with a soldier too. When the carrier settled in the middle of the pathway, people murmured and tried looking into it. To see who was going to pop out. The one soldier hopped out of his horse and cleared his throat. “Presenting, Emperor Zeke of Marley!” When the cloth was moved, a tall man with dirty blond hair stood up and looked around. Everyone was dead silent. They didn’t know what to expect or say because his aura was so...weird. Erwin, Levi and Y/n looked at him. Levi and Y/n looked at each other behind Erwin’s back and furrowed their eyebrows. Zeke had picked up on the tension and bent down to pick up Gabi. When he did and Gabi cuddled into his neck, the whole crowd went “Awww”. Zeke walked up the stairs with Reiner and his other guard, Porco, Erwin stepped forward. “Emperor Smith. How lovely to see you,” Zeke charms and Erwin smiles. “Emperor Zeke. Likewise. Please,” Erwin motions inside his palace. The two emperors walk in the palace which left the four samurai face-to-face with each other.

“I’m Reiner, Zeke’s right hand. This is Porco.” Reiner says and Levi and Y/n nod in acknowledgement. “I’m General Ackerman and this is Lieutenant L/n.” Levi introduces them. “A girl Samurai? How ridiculous.” Porco snickers and Y/n scoffs, not feeling the need to entertain his sexist remarks. “Guys! Come in! This place is amazing!” Zeke excitedly says, tearing the two pairs away. Reiner and Porco walked past Levi and Y/n and walked inside. Levi looks at Y/n to see her face turned into a bull face. She was a ticking time bomb now.

“She’s very cute.” Erwin compliments on Gabi. “Oh thank you,” Zeke smiles, “She’s my angel. Little sis can’t go anywhere without her big brothers.” “Brothers?” Erwin asks. “You see that man right there?” Zeke points to Reiner. “That’s my brother. He’s a great samurai. One of the best. But you already knew that” Zeke brags to Erwin. All the humble emperor did was nod and smile. He didn’t need to prove anything to this outsider. He had an Ackerman and a L/n with him. That already spoke volumes. “Well, let’s go to our dining room while we discuss why you’re here. I hope you like Kabayaki.” Erwin says and Gabi wakes up at the sound of it. “Onii-chan?” She cutely calls out to Zeke. “Funny how you wake up to the sound of food, Gabi,” Zeke says and Erwin looks at Gabi. She was so small and cute, nothing like her brother. “Hungry.” She says groggily and Zeke laughs loudly, startling Levi and Y/n. “Let’s eat, I guess,” Zeke says.

Erwin and Zeke with Gabi went to the dining hall and sat around the round table in the middle of the room. It was filled with delicacies that Erwin had told the kitchen to prepare the best meals for the visitors. Gabi sat on Zeke’s lap while his men stood behind him. Erwin sat across from Zeke, with Levi and Y/n behind him. Gabi begins eating while Erwin and Zeke look at each other. The whole room was silent apart from Gabi’s munches and the sound of cutlery hitting plates. Levi and Y/n had their hands behind their back, but they were ready to fight if need be. So was Reiner and Porco.

“So, let’s cut to business, shall we?” Zeke says while drinking his sake. “Please,” Erwin says. “Your father promised me 100 million pieces of gold that were here before you took over or better yet before he died. I’m here to collect that gold,” Zeke explains and Erwin tilts his head. “Any documentation to prove it?” Erwin asks, smoothly. Before becoming the emperor, Erwin was told by his father to go through old scrolls and documents so he could understand what to expect and do as Emperor. There were dealings that his father made with other Lords, which Erwin had solved in his first week as The New Emperor. So, Zeke was spewing bullshit.

“There was no documentation. It was a promise. A deal. I told your father that if he didn’t give me his promised gold pieces, I will force my hand and take it. That obviously made him flinch and I almost made him beg for me to not do it,” Zeke says while fixing his glasses. Erwin scoffs then chuckles. Zeke suddenly looks at him as well as Reiner and Porco. “How dare you?!” Zeke bangs his fist on the table which made Levi and Y/n grab the handle of their swords. “I’m sorry, Lord Zeke. But do you expect me to believe that? A man’s word means nothing when there’s no written agreement and especially doesn’t mean anything since he’s dead. All of the other Lords that my father was in debt to, I went and settled it all. And, frankly, I haven’t even heard of you before I found out you were coming here. But I did read up on you, ruler of Marley after your parents mysteriously disappeared and left you the throne.” Zeke suddenly stands up, pushing Gabi off of him and Levi steps forward but Erwin stops him. “You will regret this. I guarantee it.” Erwin smiles and wakes up. “Zeke, all I’m saying is: there’s no need to lie. If you’re a little broke, I’ll be more than happy to help, just ask. But,” Erwin motions to the door, “if you ever come into my home and disrespect my father by lying again, I guarantee that you will regret it.” Erwin growls and Zeke storms off with his guards carrying Gabi. Levi and Y/n watch them leave as many people did as well. Zeke was mad. He was really mad. Before leaving he turned and looked back at Erwin. “I’m giving you one last chance, Emperor! Give me what I want and nothing needs to happen!” Zeke shouts making everyone look at Erwin. He stayed quiet but his silence said one thing: no.

Zeke scoffed and went inside his carriage with Gabi. He was lifted and carried out of the gates of Paradis and hopefully, wouldn’t dare come back. Erwin sighs and his guards look at him. “What is it, Emperor? Something wrong?” Levi asks and Erwin looks up at the grey sky. “Yes. Something is wrong.”

———————————————————————

🖤🤍Thanks for reading🤍🖤

-Caddy.

[ythmir-writes]

HENCH by Natalie Zina Walschots

Quote:

“I’ll start packing.” I began to turn, but then passed. “I’m not expected to be nice to them, right?”

A smile reached his strange eyes. “I expect you to be vicious.”

I don’t think I’ve quite read a book like Hench and it is One of the Best Things to Happen to Me. The closest I can think of to compare it to, is VE Schwab’s Vicious, where ordinary people explore and then are pushed into circumstances involving Supers (and become super themselves) and, yes of course Despicable Me – and I know it’s a movie but where Vengeful and Despicable Me and Hench have all in common is that the story is told in the eyes of the Villain.

Nothing is quite as delicious as that.

if it isn't already obvious, I absolutely adore Villains – have been in love with them ever since I was young, before the world was put into boxes of This is The Social Thing To Do and This Is Not. Villains were the ones that Get to Do the Thing they wanted, when they wanted, and how they wanted – and nothing else is quite comparable to get my attention as a villain taking cake and eating it too.

And Hench does that and I am thrilled. Not outright of course, no. Our MC, Anna Tromedlov, starts literally as the book’s namesake, a Hench, a minion, someone in the cogs who does the busy work while the bad guys do the Glorious Evil Things. She's waiting for works from a temp agency that outsources jobs from the supervillains because hey, villains have ordinary citizen things they need to do too and could you really be picky in this economy? In the course of doing the little minion jobs to get by, Anna is thrown into quite a serious pickle and gets into a crippling accident that not only leaves her unemployed, it gives her a lifelong grudge against Heroes to get the story rolling.

And boy does it snowball into such a compelling read. I finished this in 2 sittings because I was mentally incapable of processing anything else.

Due to her Grudge from the “necessary” accident to save the day, Anna gets hired by the Biggest Bad – the monster that lurks, the villain that plots and schemes and works behind the scenes and shapes the real diabolical evils. She rises from the ranks, gets her own little department - explains things to her coworkers using powerpoints and spreadsheets (ha!), and is lucky (?) enough to get on the Biggest Hero’s radar as an Actual Potential Threat.

What is another good thing about this book, is that this "villain origin story" (because I saw a post somewhere this is going to have a book 2 sometime in the future but don’t let that stop you from reading this because this ends in a kind of ending) is, I personally think, really reflective of that concept. How can an ordinary person, someone just trying to do 8-5, even if its for the bad people, become one themselves? What pushes them to go to actively work for this Other Side? What is it about a glorified hero society that makes it so vulnerable to crumble? What justifications can one willingly convince themselves into believing that The End Shall Always Justify The Means. And as we follow the narrative through Anna’s eyes, morality is explored, and the book appears to give you A Clear-Cut Answer – but you have to think, does it really?

My only frustration is that the ending, while yes it is an actual ending, leaves Some Things open for a second (or third or fourth) book and while I will never say no to sequels on favorites, I just wanted Anna to find some kind of asdada and just sdldfakd (NO SPOILERS i know)

Like I said, I finished this novel in two bites. I have no regrets dislocating several joints just not to get out of the chair to continue reading – and I still have so many things bouncing in my head about it even after a month. This is definitely in the Top 5 for my 2021.

If you want something a little different (because the style is easy to read but the voice is fresh, at least for me it is), that continues the trend of narratives around the heroes-villains-coexisting-in-a-world-with-ordinary-people-POV, and a main character obnoxiously, tenaciously, driven by anger, spite, and a need for vengeance, then pick this up.

[rayne-storm]

AUgust 14 - Chefs

Title: WENN LIEBE IN DIR IST… UND GUTES ESSEN

Fandom: Tanz Der Vampyr

Alfred/Herbert, Graf/Sarah

This is my favourite musical. Straight up. You cannot get better than this. Maybe "Master and Margarita" but I haven't found a good bootleg of it.

I really hope you guys like this one!!!

Oh, there they were again. That damned truck with it's bombastic orchestral music, the catchy paintings, and the obnoxious sign boy. Alfred knew they were doing this on purpose, parking there because they knew how much it pissed off the staff of his own restaurant. Sure, it wasn't really "his" restaurant. It really belonged to Abronsius, the eclectic perfectionist who taught him everything.

And there the sign boy went, platinum hair flowing ever so delicately on the wind. He chatted up anyone that came by, and of course the mesh shirt mixed with the weird cape thing only made the spectacle that much more intriguing.

Alfred must have been glaring for too long because the blond eventually turned and winked straight at him through the window.

Damnit!

His face must have turned red because Abronsius asked him what was wrong, and he quickly made up some excuse about the heat before going back into the kitchen.

"You know," Sarah - the newest pastry chef - whispered, "their food's really good, and the sign dancer guy is single~" she teased.

Alfred felt his face pucker like he'd eaten a lemon.

Yes, the man was attractive, but from what Abronsius had said, they were all bad sorts there. But… well… whatever. Whatever. He had soups to make.

---

Three nights later. They were back. He had the evening off. Fuck. He was pissed. Abronsius had denied him a raise again. He shouldn't have been surprised, but if always stung when he was educated on exactly why he wasn't worth an extra two dollars an hour.

He knew he was young, sure, but he wasn't stupid or incompetent, he didn't have wrong priorities. He wasn't any of the things that stodgy old bastard said. And all he had wanted was two (2) more dollars. It wouldn't have even made him the highest paid (even discounting the profits he knew the old asshole was keeping).

So he wanted to make the man upset. As the sounds of Tchaikovsky drifted towards him, he couldn't help smirking. He hoped Abronsius was watching. Hoped Abronsius saw him ordering off the competition's menu, and he fully planned on eating right outside the restaurant, in full view from the large glass windows.

"Well hello there, finally come to see what all the fuss is about?"

Alfred nearly jumped out of his skin. He hadn't heard anyone approaching, but there he was: the sign guy. Blond haired, pale skinned, and just, umf, fucking beautiful.

Alfred felt his heart rate increase just from the sheer proximity.

"I-I-I, uhm, yeah. Uh, m-mostly, well, I, uh, wanted to p-piss off my boss."

Real smooth, dipshit!

Sarah was right. He was hopeless.

The guy grinned and, of all things, kissed his hand.

"Well, I'm glad you did. I thought I might have to venture into that tacky place to properly say hello."

Alfred honestly didn't disagree. The restaurant was called Knoblauch, which just meant "garlic" and the interior was kind of gaudy. Not that he would have ever dared say so.

"I, uh- wait. You wanted to see me?"

"Every day since I first spotted your adorable pout, yes."

It was effortless the way this guy flirted and Alfred was just getting more and more shy.

"I'm… um… that's sweet. Thanks."

"So did Sarah get you to take a look? She's been very chatty about you, you know."

Ah fuck.

"I, uh, I mean, maybe I guess, but, uh-"

"She says you're a single hopeless romantic, and I really hope she's right," the man interrupted, and whoops, there went Alfred's ability to speak anything but flustered gibberish entirely.

The man leaned down and grinned.

"My name's Herbert von Krolock. What's yours?"

Oh, Alfred knew this man knew, but he couldn't help answering anyway, stuttering it out.

Herbert grinned. "You're so cute! Do you wanna have dinner with me? Now?"

"U-u-uh, um, I mean, uh, I…. Yes…?"

Herbert took his hands (both of them, like this was some kinda romcom), and led him over to the side of the food truck, music playing louder there, and the magnificent frescoes truly visible. They were gothic scenes, dark balls. Alfred couldn't help liking them, for whatever reason.

Then another beautiful man appeared, pale and salt-and-pepper tied in a neat bun.

"Oh, the boy finally came. What shall we have tonight?"

Herbert smiled and nudged Alfred, who realized in a panic he had no idea what kind of food they even sold. The man seemed to take pity on him, luckily.

"Let's start you with a sampler, then. I know it's a wide variety… I'm glad you stopped by. Sarah speaks highly of you," he added with a small smile.

If he survived this Sarah was getting the bougiest fucking brunch ever.

Hebert led him to a small table over to the side to wait.

"You know, Graf is head over heels for her, but he's afraid his age will put her off," the blond murmured conspiratorially.

Alfred couldn't help snorting softly.

"She has a thing for older guys, actually. He should go for it."

Herbert grinned brightly. "I'll try to let him know that…"

Alfred couldn't help smiling. Was it something in the air? Who knew? He just… was having the best night he'd had in a long time.

The food was ready and Herbert got it, stopping only briefly to greet visitors. Alfred was a little surprised, since he always seemed so sociable before, inviting people in.

"What's the look for, hmm?"

Alfred was startled again by the quietness of Herbert's steps.

"O-oh! Nothing, really. Just… you always seem so chatty when…"

"When you spy on me from your little restaurant? I am. But tonight I'm on a date with a very cute guy, and he gets all my attention."

Alfred once again lost all coherence, nibbling at a strawberry to hide his sheepishness.

Herbert just chuckled, and began telling him about the food truck.

Graf (the owner, Mr. Sexy Older Guy) had taught himself to cook after dealing with a very hard childhood, and one day he decided he would take his knowledge out and feed others. He quickly became popular as a caterer at parties, the rich-people kind, like masquerade balls and that kinda thing.

He still did them sometimes. But his true love lay in cooking for the masses, it seemed, out on the street, in parks, at games. He decided to take the Balls and Parties with him.

"That's… really cool," Alfred admitted.

"Yeah? I think so. But we might have to give it up… he's thinking of doing a world tour in his golden years," Herbert began with a wry smirk, "as though he ever plans on retiring… but he wants an apprentice. I'm no good at anything except cold foods and people-pleasing…"

Alfred sighed and shook his head. Just his luck. He found a new favourite place and they were closing.

"I mean, you seem pretty good at what you do…" Herbert added suggestively.

"Wait, wait, what? Me?"

"Yeah. You. You're not the only one that spies from time to time. You seem really passionate about food. And fast. And competent in general."

Everything that Abronsius berated him for not being.

"I… is this all just a ploy? To poach from the competition?" He asked, stiffening. It was one thing to be all flirty and friendly, an entirely other thing to-

"What? No. Of course not! I'm not so shallow I'd do that."

Herbert looked genuinely hurt and offended. Fuck.

"I… I… I'm sorry it's just… I'm pretty often reminded that I'm a young, stupid know-nothing that'll never make it on my own and all…" Alfred muttered bitterly.

"That old hack doesn't know what he's talking about."

Graf's voice came from nowhere, and you know what? Alfred could live in a state of permanent heart-attacks. That was fine.

"What? You know him?"

"That pompous blowhard is the reason I never went to culinary school. Way back when, he made everyone's life hell because it had to be his way or nothing, because he knew how to cook 'properly' and we knew nothing."

"....so I take it he hasn't changed much."

"Nope. Almost ruined food for me. I decided I'd never go through anything that would turn me into a rude monster like that."

"Well, I'm quitting tomorrow, so I don't blame you."

Graf chuckled. "Why bother with that courtesy? Just come work for me. Rub it in his face. Bring the girl too. Take his two best kids from him."

Yeah. That… that sounded good.

"You know what? I think I will. If you'll excuse me, I have a call to make."

He walked over to the other side of the truck, a little ways away, where he could look in and see the kitchen. And there was Sarah, flinching at something the old bastard was saying.

He called her number.

He almost couldn't believe it when she picked up.

"Look outside," he directed. She did, and gave him a wave and a bright smile.

"How do you like it?!”

"So much I'm gonna work here. I quit. You should too. They asked for you by name."

"Say no more."

She hung up, and without further ado completely stripped off her uniform, leaving her in a sports bra and leggings (cause let's be real it got fucking hot in that kitchen sometimes), and she just sauntered on out.

Herbert started laughing, and Alfred turned just in time to see the look on Graf's face as his dulcet darling was strutting over.

"So, you want to give a recently unemployed girl a job?" She asked with a bright smile.

Alfred was glad he wasn't the only one who sometimes forgot how to speak.

Herbert took over, and the pair quickly bantered a deal, and Alfred just took a minute to watch.

They looked good, all together like that. Almost like a family.

Of course, then Herbert glanced up at him, and gave him another of those heart-stopping winks.

Well.

Carpe noctem and all that.

[straykats]

this or that:

cats or dogs?

winter or summer?

school or work?

pen or pencil?

dirt or sand?

movies or tv shows?

ice cream or froyo?

would you rather:

be blind or deaf?

have no legs or no arms?

live your current age forever or live a different age forever?

talk to your past self about something or see what someone elses point of view was on something in the past?

only know one language fluently or know 50+ languages but only at a beginners level?

+ random questions

what apocalypse/zombie apocalypse based movie/tv show do you think you could survive in? (examples: the maze runner, walking dead, black summer, z nation, the 100, attack on titan, etc.)

if you could make one fictional character someone real in your life who would you choose? (could be from a cartoon, tv show, movie, book, etc and if their being portrayed by a real person this is with the assumption that theyll both exist but be two completely different people who very strangely look EXACTLY alike lol)

once again, under the cut for length!! gonna ramble a bit too for each i am so sorry but tyvm

cats > dogs!!!!!!! i do love both but aHHHHHH ive accepted that i am a cat person. its weird but i used to feel pressured into saying im a dog person bc everyone i knew had a dog? and i never really had any contact w cats either so that explains a lil bit but !! KJADVKJDNVJKDNVKJ i want a cat so bad and theres a cat cafe in my city but its a bit car for me rip but im really eager to go at least once!! but cats are scary when u hold them bc they're so.. small.. inside.. like.. their skeleton.. so small... im so scared like they feel so fragile and i know they're capable but still

winter > summer !! i love the rain and i dont love the cold but i hate the heat (esp australian summers) so !!!! like eyah winter sucks when you bave plans but as someone who rarely has plans i am Okay With That. summer is wHACK because you can be in short sleeves and you'll still be so uncomfy like tmi maybe but yknow when u're in shorts or smth and u sit on a chair for too long and u stand up and its like peeling a sticker off tupperwear without the ripping bit??? yeah bruh summer aint it for me

school > work...? maybe? i'm unemployed (im looking but most places are like !!! experience needed !!!! babes im asking u for experience) so idk but i do enjoy learning (without the assessments etc) so??? but work doesnt seem too bad... if you're allowing a "neither" answer, i shall choose that.

pen < pencil. i think. pencils flow smoother? i use pen more because its clearer/easier to see and bc habit and also people dont accept pencil for documents and assignments so yknow. but writing with pencil is more satisfying for me.

dirt or sand? babes (wait i've called u babes a few times im sorry if youre uncomfy w that! if u want, lmk and i'll change it) what is this question i have never ever EVER encountered this question before. but.. i think... sand... i'm thinking of dirt as soil and sand combined so.. just sand..

movies or tv shows? OH MANNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN uh. depends? somethings are better as a movie and some are tv shows. i think i have more comfort/favourite tv shows as movies so maybe tv shows.. although i /am/ categorising anime and kdramas into tv shows.

ice cream > froyo. i havent had much froyo tbh but from the few times i have, i think i pref. ice cream..

would you rather:

be blind or deaf? blind. i enjoy listening to and find comfort in music way too much. I can also play instruments by ear and learn to adapt to not having sight so! i've grown up surrounded by music too much for me to not be able to have it in my life.

have no legs or no arms? no legs, i think.

live your current age forever or live a different age forever? different age lmaoooo but also i', saying this assuming that living my age forever or living a different age forever comes with the struggles of that age? i'm 19 rn and unemployed and have a few personal things going on and the expectations that are on me are a bit uhhh bc i can't exactly meet all of them so if i had to stay this age with my current experiences, i would rather a different age, one where everything is a bit more organised? but if i can stay 19 forever but still change my circumstances as time progresses then idm that.. so depends on what being a certain age forever means, if that makes sense.

talk to your past self about something or see what someone elses point of view was on something in the past?

only know one language fluently or know 50+ languages but only at a beginners level?

aw man im bilingual and i consider myself pretty fluent in both my languages (eng and viet), but viet im more fluent speaking than reading/writing? if i only knew english fluently (thus not being fluent in viet) i would be really disconnected because speaking viet is such a big part of who i am and my everyday life so its ahhhh... but 50 languages on a basic level...? how basic are we talking..? like conversational basic or like only knowing a few phrases? hm.

+ random questions

what apocalypse/zombie apocalypse based movie/tv show do you think you could survive in? (examples: the maze runner, walking dead, black summer, z nation, the 100, attack on titan, etc.) //// the maze runner maybe but only if we're including the first book/movie and i dont need to go into the maze LMAOOOO i aint got that ya protagonist energy in me. attack on titan... i'm not up to date so i've no idea whats going on in the recent season, but i don't think i could do that. the knowledge of titans on the other side of the wall would make me go bonkers HHAAHA. uhhh i can't think of any other apocalypse mvies/shows etc off the top of my head that i've watched/read so between tmr and aot, i would choose tmr, because at least then i wouldn't be aware of the outside world and i would believe being inside is all i have yknow? like even in aot if i believed that, the titans are too scary. im not saying those spider things in tmr arent scary but idk i'd jsut rather that AHAHA

if you could make one fictional character someone real in your life who would you choose? (could be from a cartoon, tv show, movie, book, etc and if their being portrayed by a real person this is with the assumption that theyll both exist but be two completely different people who very strangely look EXACTLY alike lol) // omg no stop i've like. this question always stresses me out wdym just one i have too many comfort characters ahfbhdbavkdhva BUT alec lightwood! ... as he is portrayed in the book, but with the appearance of matthew daddario. i just.. yeah. alec :(

ty for sending in these questions!!! i enjoyed going through them very much!!

[ubernoxa]

The Token: A GNR Fanfic

Chapter 12: Practice

Story Summary: Story inspired by the movie She’s the Man. A female Duff is tired of dealing with the bullshit of trying to make it on the strip as a female bassist. In a desperate attempt to make it big doing what she does, she cuts her hair and mascardes as Duff. What’s the wors that could happen?

Chapter Summary: Duff attends a not so smooth band practice which doesn’t go smoothly. She also realizes some things with tipsy.

(Masterlist)

Taglist: @viralwolf02 @littlemisscare-all @smokeandmirrorz @aratbaby @slashscowboyboots @queen-crue @achiweyow @bitter-13-suite

“I’m just saying that we should be playing at venues twice a week,” Axl’s voice filled the small apartment as him and Steven ‘discussed’ some band matters during our band practice.

“I never said we shouldn’t Axl, but if we don’t that’s fine,” I watched as Steven threw his arms in the air in defeat. This discussion was more of a one sided conversation . Steven would listen and respond to what Axl was saying, but Axl wasn’t listening to a word coming out of Steven’s mouth.

“Well we need to be, otherwise we will lose ALL momentum. If you’re not willing to put in the time,” before Axl could continue Steven interrupted him, “NOT WILLING TO PUT IN THE TIME?”

I shot a quick look over towards Slash who was too focused on the bottle in his hand to care about the fight that was most likely going to break out. In desperation, I turned over towards where Izzy was sitting only to meet his blank stare. I sighed at myself forgetting that he snorted a line half way through practice.

“Hey, guys. One: Stop fucking yelling you’re giving me a damn headache. Two: Axl, how about the two of us take a trip to the strip tomorrow afternoon to see if we can get a contact for another gig. Sounds good?” My voice cut through their conversation as I spoke. Children, sometimes I was surrounded by children.

I received a small nod from the red head before taking a quick break and grabbing a beer from the kitchen. Jesus Christ, I needed it if there was any hope of me making it through this band practice. For some reason Axl had had his panties in a knot the past two practices, and none of us knew why.

“Have I ever said how I like it when you yell?” I practically choked on my beer when Izzy startled me in the kitchen.

“No...don’t recall rhythm boy,” I teased back taking another sip,

“You going out tonight?”

“Yeah, but as Michelle...not Duff. My roommates are worried that what I’m doing is incredibly unhealthy,” I shrugged back, finishing off my drink and grabbing another.

“Well it is…”

“I never said it wasn’t. It’s just they are really starting to piss me off, and on top of that I’m still unemployed,” I took another sip as my problems began to add up.

“You partying with Mr. soloist guitar guy?”

“Why...you jealous?” I teased back, but I felt his grip tighten around my waist as he pulled me in close.

“Why would I be jealous? You already know that rhythm guys do it better, or do I need to remind you?”

“I’m sorry but my head is a little fuzzy and I can’t seem to remember that. Are you free tonight to explain it again?” I teased back earning a small smirk from the guitarists

“Gladly, and this time I’ll make sure you don’t forget,” his voice sent shivers up my spine as I watched him leave.

Fuck.

The room was still tense as I joined everyone again.

“So shall we take it from the top?” Slash asked, cueing me to prep my bass and get ready to start playing our set list.

I felt an electricity flow through me as we continued to play. Every time we played the refrain I felt like we were improving bit by bit. Maybe just maybe we had a chance. We just had to survive long enough to not have a fight break out amongst ourselves.

“Well I gotta get going!” I said after we finished making a couple tweaks to our set list.

“Come on Duff...stay! We’re going out tonight and I need my drinking buddy!” Steven cheered as I packed up my bass at the end of practice.

“No, I got dinner plans,” I replied before taking one last swig of my beer.

“Fuck the dinner plans!” Steven joked as he leaned back into his chair. As much as I wanted to stay, I knew that I had to get back home. I made a promise to my roommates and they would kill me if I ditched them.

“I can’t, plus you have Slash...that’s ⅔ of the drinking club so you’ll survive a night without me!” I replied.

“It’s not the same!” Steven whined, dodging a pillow that Slash had thrown at him.

“Are you going out after your dinner thing with your roommates?” This only earned a small laugh from Slash who was immediately the recipient from one of Axl’s glares.

“No, I got work, but I think my roommates are….why?” I tried to follow Axl’s reason for questioning me, but I couldn’t. Maybe he just wanted to avoid my roommates. I couldn’t blame him, sometimes I wish I could avoid my roommates too.

“Are you taking the bus?” Slash asked, trying to change the conversation.

“Yeah,” I shrugged as I watched Izzy and Slash share a look I had seen hundreds of times before. It was 5 pm and the afternoon, the sun had slowly begun to set, filling the sky with burnt oranges and sharp reds. I didn’t have to guess that they didn’t want me to take the bus alone when it got dark out.

“Nah, I can drive you,” Izzy got up from the couch and followed me out. I wanted to protest and say that I was perfectly fine with being able to take care of myself, but that’s something Michelle would do. When people offered Michelle rides at night it was because they didn’t want her to get hurt walking alone, but when Duff was offered rides it was because they were just being nice. Funny how the world works. I kept my mouth silent not making a big deal about it because Duff would not have made a big deal about it.

After collecting my things, I followed Izzy out.

“You sounded awesome today,” I commented, trying to get him talking.

“Thanks, you did too,” I sent him a warm smile and internally cussed at myself for how awkward I was feeling.

Thankfully he only parked his truck like a block away, so the awkwardness didn’t last long.

“Thanks for not bleeding in my truck this time. I was worried it would be a regular thing,” I didn’t have to look at Izzy to know he was smirking at his own comment

“Well Michelle is dead to the public, so no need to worry about that happening again,” I replied barely audible.

“If Michelle is dead then why are you going to a dinner party dressed as her?” Izzy snapped back. Was there frustration in his tone?

“Because of my roommates.”

“Your roommates?”

“Yes Izzy, my damn roommates are worried about me. Honestly I’m just tired of this…” I replied. I could feel it. The tears slowly fought their way out of my eyes.

“Tired of what?”

“I’m tired of living a double life...GOD why did I think masquerading as a guy was a good idea. People are finding out left and right, and it’s not going to end well.” I turned away from Izzy as the tears started to dance across my face.

“Hey...hey it’s okay. You’re just a little drunk right now,and you aren’t thinking clearly,” I felt him reach for my arm, but I immediately swatted it away.

“Thanks for the ride,” I sharply replied as I opened the truck door and headed inside towards my apartment. By now the tears were coming out like waterfalls.

[anoriginalbrilliantutterance]

I'll try to tell you. Then go home and forget it.  His name was Clifton and they shot him down. His name was Clifton and he was tall and some folks thought him handsome. And though he didn't believe it, I think he was. His name was Clifton and his face was black and his hair was thick with tight-rolled curls -- or call them naps or kinks. He's dead and, except to a few young girls, it doesn't matter. Have you got it?  Think of your brother or your cousin John. His lips were thick with an upward curve at the corners. He often smiled. He had good eyes and a pair of fast hands, and he had a heart. He thought about things and he felt deeply. I won't call him noble because what's such a word to do with one of us? 

His name was Clifton, Tod Clifton, and, like any man, he was born of woman to live awhile and fall and die. So that's his tale to the minute. His name was Clifton and for a while he lived among us and aroused a few hopes in the young manhood of man, and we who knew him loved him and he died. So why are you waiting? You've heard it all. Why wait for more, when all I can do is repeat it?" 

His name was Clifton and he was young and he was a leader and when he fell there was a hole in the heel of his sock and when he stretched forward he seemed not as tall as when he stood. So he died; and we who loved him are gathered here to mourn him. It's as simple as that and as short as that: His name was Clifton and he was black and they shot him. Isn't that enough to tell? Isn't it all you need to know? Isn't that enough to appease your thirst for drama and send you home to sleep it off? Go take a drink and forget it. Or read it in The Daily News. His name was Clifton and they shot him, and I was there to see him fall.  Here are the facts.

He was standing and he fell. He fell and he kneeled. He kneeled and he bled. He bled and he died. He fell in a heap like any man and his blood spilled out like any blood; red as any blood, wet as any blood reflecting the sky and the buildings and birds and trees, or your face if you'd looked into its dulling mirror and it dried in the sun as blood dries. That's all. They spilled his blood and he bled. They cut him down and he died; the blood flowed on the walk in a pool, gleamed a while, and, after awhile, became dull then dusty, then dried. That's the story and that's how it ended. It's an old story and there's been too much blood to excite you. Besides, it's only important when it fills the veins of a living man. Aren't you tired of such stories? Aren't you sick of the blood?  Then why listen? why don't you go? The beer is cold in the taverns, the saxophones will be mellow at the Savoy; plenty good-laughing-lies will be told in the barber shops and beauty parlors; and there'll be sermons in two hundred churches in the cool of the evening, and plenty of laughs at the movies. Go listen to 'Amos and Andy' and forget it. Here you have only the same old story. 

There's not even a young wife up here in red to mourn him. There's nothing here to pity, no one to break down and shout. Nothing to give you that good old frightened feeling. The story's too short and too simple. His name was Clifton, Tod Clifton, he was unarmed and his death was as senseless as his life was futile. He had struggled for Brotherhood on a hundred street corners and he thought it would make him more human,  but he died like any dog in a road.

"All, all right," I called out, feeling desperate. "Let me tell it as it truly was! His name was Tod Clifton and he was full of illusions. He thought he was a man when he was only Tod Clifton. He was shot for a simple mistake of judgement and he bled and his blood dried and shortly the crowd trampled out the stains. It was a normal mistake for which many are guilty. He thought he was a man and that men were not meant to be pushed around. But it was hot downtown and he forgot his history, he forgot the time and the place. He lost his hold on reality. There was a cop and a waiting audience but he was Tod Clifton and the cops are everywhere. The cop? What about him? He was a cop. A good citizen. But this cop had an itching finger and an eager ear for a word that rhymed with 'trigger', and when Clifton fell he had found it. The Police Special spoke its lines and the rhyme was completed. Just look around you. Look at what he made, look inside you and feel his awful power. It was perfectly natural. The blood ran like blood in a comic book killing, on a comic-book street in a comic-book town on a comic-book day in a comic-book world.

Tod Clifton's one with the ages. But what's that to do with you in this heat under this veiled sun? Now he's part of history, and he has received his true freedom ---didn't they scribble his name on a standardized pad?

His Race: colored! Religion: unknown, probably born Baptist. Place of birth: U.S. Some southern town. Next of kin: unknown. Address: unknown. Occupation: unemployed. Cause of death: resisting reality in the form of a .38 caliber revolver in the hands of the arresting officer, on Forty-second between the library and the subway in the heat of the afternoon, of gunshot wounds received from three bullets, fired at three paces, one bullet entering the right ventricle of the heart, and lodging there, the other severing the spinal ganglia raveling downward to lodge in the pelvis, the other breaking through the back and traveling God knows where.

Such was the short bitter life of Brother Tod Clifton. Now he's in this box with the bolts tightening down. He's in the box and we're in there with him, and when I've told you this you can go. It's dark in this box and it's crowded. It has a cracked ceiling and a clogged-up toilet in the hall. It has rats and roaches, and it's far, far too expensive a dwelling. The air is bad and it'll be cold this winter. Tod Clifton is crowded and he needs the room. 'Tell them to get out of the box,' that's what he would say if you could hear him. 'Tell them to get out of the box and go teach the cops to forget that rhyme. Tell them to teach them when they call you *n***er* to make a rhyme with *trigger* it makes the gun backfire.'

So there you have it. In a few hours Tod Clifton will be cold bones in the ground, and don't be fooled, for these bones shall not rise again.

You and I will still be in the box. I don't know if Tod Clifton had a soul. I only know the ache that I feel in my heart, my sense of love, I don't know if you have a soul. I only know that you are men of flesh and blood, and that blood will spill and flesh grow cold. I do not know if all cops are poets, but I know that all cops carry guns with triggers. And I know too how we are labeled. So in the name of Brother Clifton beware of the triggers; go home, keep cool, stay safe away from the sun. Forget him. When he was alive there's only one thing left to tell and I've already told it. His name was Tod Clifton, he believed in Brotherhood, he aroused our hopes  and he died."

[lukatheselkie]

HMC - Movie Crossover

@hetaliamondaychallenge

I most definitely used a script for this, and that can be found here. I only did the story that’s being told. As much as I love the grandfather, the kid, and his mom, it just didn’t fit for what I had in mind. I also mostly went by the movie for actions, so some things are in different places than the script says.

None of the quotes or locations are mine/my ideas. Movie crossovers are hard when you’re a writer 😂 (Most) emotions and anything to do with Sweden’s glasses are my own interpretation of the moment.

Movie: The Princess Bride

Pairing: Nyo!Sweden/England

Warnings: Implied murder, kidnapping, swords, parental death talked about, mentioned scars, death threat, fencing. Please tell me if I missed any!

The name I’ve given to Nyo!Sweden is Sigrid.

The name I’ve given to Nyo!Belgium is Beau.

I will finish this, I just severely underestimated the amount of time this would take to write 😭 I wrote through my favorite scene, which ends at twenty-five minutes into an hour and thirty-eight minute movie (including end credits, so the content is a bit less than that. I’d say I got... about a third of the way through it? Maybe slightly less.)

    Sigrid brushes her messy hair back from her face, making sure not to release her horse’s reins. She pushes her glasses up her nose and turns to Arthur, who’s standing in the doorway to the stable. “Farm Boy. Polish my horse’s saddle. I want to see my face shining in it by morning.” He watches her closely, speaking quietly.

    “As you wish.” That was all he ever said to her. It both infuriated her, and made her curious.

~

    Sigrid tosses down two large buckets nearby Arthur, who is chopping wood. “Farm Boy. Fill these with water.” She pauses, thinking briefly. “Please.” His expression stays aggravatingly neutral.

    “As you wish.” She turns and starts to leave. He watches her longingly. Unexpectedly, she stops to look back at him. He manages to look away, but his heart is hammering with adrenaline.

    Sigrid stares at him in surprise. When he says ‘as you wish’, he’s really saying ‘I love you.’ It’s a thought that amazes her.

~

    Arthur comes into the kitchen with an armload of firewood. Sigrid’s heart flutters happily at seeing him. She had figured out she loved him back earlier that day. Oh! He’s leaving! “Farm Boy.” Her voice is smooth. “Fetch me that pitcher.” It almost comes out as a question. She could reach it if she wanted to, but keeping him close for just a moment longer is more important. He carefully reaches up and grabs it, handing it to her. They stare into each other’s eyes, standing very close. She can almost feel her heart in her throat. Does he know? He must know!

    “As you wish.” He leaves without so much as a glance back at her.

~

    Sigrid and Arthur kiss passionately. He has no money for marriage, so he has to leave to seek his fortune across the sea. The kiss turns into an embrace, and both of their hearts break a bit at the thought of him leaving. “I fear I’ll never see you again.” Arthur scoffs quietly.

    “Of course you will.” There’s no doubt in his voice. It helps reassure her, but not much.

    “But what if something happens to you?” It’s a serious concern that has her stomach knotted up a million different ways.

    “Hear this now: I will come for you.” He sounds so confident.

    “But how can you be sure?” Her anxiety is practically bubbling out of her now.

    “This is true love. You think this happens every day?” He smiles at her. This gives her enough courage to smile back, and she throws her arms around him. They kiss once more, then it’s time for him to leave. It’s such a beautiful sunset for such a terrible evening.

~

    Arthur doesn’t reach his destination. Sigrid clutches the letter addressed to her tightly. Its contents tell her about his ship being attacked by Dread Pirate Roberts, who never leaves anyone alive. She locks herself in her room, and doesn’t sleep or eat for days. “I’ll never love again,” she whispers emotionlessly to the empty room.

~

    Five years later, the main square of Florin City is filled to capacity with people waiting to hear the announcement about Prince Mathias’ bride-to-be. Three people stand behind the prince; his parents, and Count Beau. Mathias raises his hands, and starts to speak. “My people… A month from now, our country will have its five-hundredth anniversary. On that sundown, I shall marry a lady who was once a commoner like yourselves,” he pauses for dramatic effect. “But perhaps you will not find her common now. Would you like to meet her?” There’s an overwhelming reaction that, yes, they want to meet her. On cue, she starts walking down the giant staircase leading to the crowd. Despite it being nearly impossible, the crowd collectively holds its breath. Sigrid comes into view, pushing her glasses up self consciously. “My people… The Princess Sigrid!” She quietly starts to move toward the people, heart hammering nervously. She’s never been good with people, especially in large crowds. They all suddenly kneel with no instruction, and tears come to her eyes. It’s all too much.

    She doesn’t love the prince. She’s too empty for that. The law of the land gives him the right to choose his bride, but that doesn’t mean she has to care for him. As soon as she is able, she climbs atop her horse and rides into the woods. Despite his reassurance that she would grow to love him, the only joy she has is her daily ride. She rides until just before sundown, when she sees a group of men. “A word, my lady?” She brings her horse to a stop so she can help them. “We are but poor, lost circus performers. Is there a village nearby?”

    “There is nothing nearby; not for miles.”

    “Then there will be no one to hear you scream.” The largest of the men touches a nerve on her neck, and her forming scream is cut off before it can build.

~

    Ivan, the giant, carries her to the sailboat at dusk. He nods at Antonio, who is finishing up getting the boat ready to sail. Lovino skillfully tears pieces of fabric from an army jacket, and tucks it into the princess’ horse’s saddle. “What is that you’re ripping?” Antonio questions. Without reacting, Lovino answers him.

    “It’s fabric from the uniform of an Army officer of Guilder.”

    “Who’s Guilder?” Comes Ivan’s voice, full of curiosity. Antonio points over the water.

    “The country across the sea. The sworn enemy of Florin.” He slaps the horse’s rump. “Go!” As expected, the horse takes off. He ambles toward the boat. “Once the horse reaches the castle, the fabric will make the Prince suspect the Guilderians have abducted his love. When he finds her body dead on the Guilder frontier, his suspicions will be totally confirmed.”

    “You never said anything about killing anyone.” Ivan stares at him.

    “I've hired you to help me start a war. That's a prestigious line of work with a long and glorious tradition.” He places a hand on his hip as he speaks.

    “I just don’t think it’s right, killing an innocent girl.” He shakes his head slightly. Lovino gets in his face, clearly angry.

    “Am I going mad or did the word ‘think’ escape your lips? You were not hired for your brains, you hippopotamic land mass.”

    “I agree with Ivan,” Antonio comments as he hops into the boat, pushing them off. Lovino’s rage grows by the second.

    “Oh! The sot has spoken! What happens to her is not truly your concern—I will kill her—And remember this—never forget this—when I found you, you were so slobbering drunk you couldn't buy brandy! And you!” He turns on Ivan. “Friendless, brainless, helpless, hopeless! Do you want me to send you back to where you were? Unemployed in Greenland!” He glares at them for a long moment, then storms off. He doesn’t go far, since they’re on a ship. Antonio, who had gotten closer to Ivan after the insults, tries to relieve some of his stress.

    “That Lovino, he can fuss.” Ivan looks thoughtful for a moment, repeating the word to himself.

    “Fuss… Fuss… I think he likes to scream at us.”

    “Probably he means no harm.”

    “He’s really very short on… charm.” Antonio smiles at him.

    “Oh, you’ve a great gift for rhyme.” Ivan smiles back.

    “Yes, some of the time.”

    “Enough of that!” Lovino cuts in.

    “Ivan, are there rocks ahead?” Antonio’s voice is somewhat excited.

    “If there are, we’ll all be dead.” He’s feeling much better now. Good.

    “No more rhymes now, I mean it!” Lovino snaps at them.

    “Anybody want a peanut?” Lovino half groans, half screams.

~

    “We’ll reach the Cliffs by dawn,” Lovino declares to Antonio. The Spaniard nods, glancing back. “Why are you doing that?”

    “Making sure nobody’s following us.”

    “That would be inconceivable.”

    “Despite what you think, you will be caught. And when you are, the Prince will see you all hanged.” Sigrid’s voice rings out. Lovino turns to give her a stern, cold look.

    “Of all the necks on this boat, Highness, the one you should be worrying about is your own.” Antonio continues staring behind them. “Stop doing that. We can all relax, it's almost over-”

    “You’re sure nobody’s following us?”

    “As I told you, it would be absolutely, totally, and in all other ways, inconceivable. No one in Guilder knows what we've done. And no one in Florin could have gotten here so fast.” He pauses for a beat. “Out of curiosity, why do you ask?”

    “No reason. It's only, I just happened to look behind us, and something is there.”

    “What!?” They whirl around, staring behind them. It’s hard to see; the moon is behind clouds, leaving it nearly pitch black. The wind whistles, and the waves pond. It almost seems ominous. Antonio, Ivan, and Lovino all squint into the darkness. It becomes strangely eerie. Then, the moon comes out, revealing a black sailboat with a billowing black sail, far away. It’s getting closer though. “Probably some local fisherman out for a pleasure cruise. At night. Through eel-infested waters.” There’s a splash behind them; it’s Sigrid, who’s dived into the water and is frantically swimming away. “Go in, get after her!”

    “I don’t swim,” from Antonio.

    “I only dog paddle,” Ivan mentions, waving his hands in the air slightly as an example.

    “Veer left. Left. Left!” Sigrid swims as fast and as silently as she can, hoping they don’t catch up to her. The wind stops, and the lack of it’s whistling allows a strange shrieking noise to make its way to her ears. She stops in fear, only moving to keep herself afloat. “Do you know what that sound is, Highness? Those are the Shrieking Eels—if you doubt me, just wait. They always grow louder when they're about to feed on human flesh.” She stays silent as the shrieking gets louder. “If you swim back now, I promise, no harm will come to you. I doubt you will get such an offer from the Eels.”

    The sound gets louder, but she doesn’t make a sound. Something huge slithers behind her. She suppresses a shudder, but refuses to reply. She’s terrified, and blind—she left her glasses on the boat—but she knows going back will lead her to a fate just as bad, if not worse. One of the Eels starts circling her, and she minimalizes her strokes. They swim directly toward her, and she’s certain this is the end, she’s going to be eaten alive. A mouth opens, the Eel shrieking louder yet at her, and she’s about to be bitten, when an arm hits the Eel, easily knocking them out. The arm grabs her, lifting her back onto the boat. “Put her down! Just put her down!” Antonio points behind them again.

    “I think he’s getting closer.” Lovino ties Sigrid’s hands together as he speaks.

    “He’s no concern of ours. Sail on!” He looks back at Sigrid with a sneer. “I suppose you think you’re brave, don’t you?”

    “Only compared to some.” She stares at him, showing no fear. Ivan places her glasses back on her face when Lovino withdraws from her. She thanks him quietly.

~

    At dawn, they’re being closely trailed by the black sailboat. “Look! He's right on top of us. I wonder if he is using the same wind we are using?” Antonio inquires.

    “Whoever he is, he’s too late!” Lovino points ahead of them. “See? The Cliffs of Insanity.” They’re incredibly tall, and they surge straight up from the water. Antonio navigates the boat in closer, but the black boat is coming toward them fast. “Hurry up! Move the thing! Um! That other thing! Move it!” He screams at Antonio, who manages to get them to the cliffs first, and they hurry off as Lovino speaks again. “We're safe—only Ivan is strong enough to go up our way—he'll have to sail around for hours 'til he finds a harbor.” Antonio places a harness on Ivan, and wraps straps around Sigrid and himself expertly. Lovino does his own, and they start up a rope, tied to a rock at the top, Ivan carrying all three of them.

    A man in black hops off his boat, abandoning it without a second though, but Ivan is already a third of the way up. It seems impossible to catch up. Or, perhaps not. He climbs up the rope quickly, getting closer to the four. “He’s climbing the rope. And he’s gaining on us,” Antonio muses.

    “Inconceivable!” Lovino pokes Ivan, who speeds up. The man in black comes closer and closer by the second. “Faster!” He screeches.

                   “You were supposed to be this colossus! You were this great, legendary thing! And yet he gains.”

    “Well, I'm carrying three people. And he's got only himself.”

    “I do not accept excuses!” He shakes his head. “I'm just going to have to find myself a new giant, that's all.”

    “Don’t say that, Lovino. Please.” There’s pain in his voice. His arms slow a bit, as he’s getting tired. The man in black gains still.

    “Did I make it clear that your job is at stake!?” A few tense moments pass, and he pulls them over the cliff edge. Lovino leaps off of him, pulling out a knife. He starts cutting at the rope, tied around a heavy rock. Antonio helps Sigrid to her feet, watching her push her glasses back into place when she’s standing. Ivan stands there, waiting for someone to tell him what to do. He glances at the ruins nearby; they remind him of Stonehenge, though he thinks they might have been a fort at one point. The man in black is very close now, but Lovino manages to cut the rope before he can make it to the top. It glides across the ground, toward the cliff edge, being dragged down by its own weight. Antonio, Ivan, and Sigrid stand by the edge, looking down at the man in black, clinging for his life on the jagged rocks. It becomes apparent he’s wearing a mask over his eyes.

    “He has very good arms,” Ivan observes, talking to Antonio. He sounds impressed. Lovino turns toward them, stunned and outraged.

    “He didn’t fall? Inconceivable!” Antonio looks at him.

    “You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.” He glances back down. “My God! He’s climbing.”

    “Whoever he is, he's obviously seen us with the Princess, and must therefore die.” He points his dagger at Ivan. “You, carry her.” He turns to Antonio. “We'll head straight for the Guilder frontier. Catch up when he's dead. If he falls, fine. If not, the sword.”

    “I want to duel him left-handed.”

    “You know what a hurry we’re in!”

    “Well, it's the only way I can be satisfied. If I use my right—tch—over too quickly.” Lovino groans, walking briefly away from him.

    “Oh, have it your way!”

    “You be careful,” Ivan tells him, coming closer. “People in masks cannot be trusted.”

    “I’m waiting!” Lovino calls. Ivan nods, and hurries after Lovino, carrying Sigrid. Antonio watches them until they disappear, then looks down at the man in black. He watches for a bit, then starts pacing, shaking his hands. He practices some of his fencing skills, and looks back at the man in black when that’s not enough to distract him. He’s not much closer to the top. He walks away, then comes back, impatient.

    “Hello there.” The man in black glances up, grunting slightly. “Slow going?”

    “Look, I don't mean to be rude, but this is not as easy as it looks. So I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't distract me.”

    “Sorry.”

    “Thank you.” Antonio steps away again, practices a few thrusts, then re-sheaths his sword, looking over the edge fervently. “I do not suppose you could speed things up?”

    “If you're in such a hurry, you could lower a rope, or a tree branch, or find something useful to do.” He struggles a bit as he climbs, but there’s no question that he’ll make it to the top.

    “I could do that. In fact, I've got some rope up here. But I do not think that you will accept my help, since I am only waiting around to kill you.”

    “That does put a damper on our relationship.” He continues climbing, raising up a bit from a good hold.

    “But I promise I will not kill you until you reach the top.”

    “That’s very comforting. But I’m afraid you’ll just have to wait.”

    “I hate waiting,” he grumbles out. “I could give you my word as a Spainard?”

    “No good. I’ve known too many Spainyards.” He grunts as he searches around for another place to grab.

    “You don’t know any way you’ll trust me?”

    “Nothing comes to mind.” Antonio raises his right hand high, eyes glossing over, voice serious.

    “I swear on the soul of my father, Domingo Montoya, you will reach the top alive.” Silence falls between them heavily. Then, barely above a whisper, the man in black speaks.

    “Throw me the rope.” Antonio hurries to the large rock, untying the rope as fast as he can. He hears the man in black slip, but he knows he’s still there. He scrambles back to the edge and throws one end of the rope down to him. The man grabs hold of the rope, and Antonio pulls on it as hard as he can, walking steadily backwards. He watches the man in black come into view, and he pulls him to safety. “Thank you,” he huffs out, pulling his sword. Antonio holds up his hand.

    “We’ll wait until you’re ready.”

    “Again, thank you.” He sits atop the boulder the rope is tied around. He tugs off his long leather boots, tapping them to get the rocks out. There’s more than a few rocks, and most of them are big. He stares at them, amazed. Antonio notices he has gloves on; he stares at them.

    “I do not mean to pry, but you don't by any chance happen to have six fingers on your right hand?” The man in black looks up, obviously bewildered by the question.

    “Do you always begin conversations this way?”

    “My father was slaughtered by a six-fingered man. He was a great sword maker, my father. And when the six-fingered man appeared and requested a special sword, my father took the job. He slaved a year before he was done.” His demeanor turns sorrowful. He offers the sword to the man in black, who examines it closely, clearly impressed.

    “I have never seen its equal,” he declares as he hands it back, being cautious of the heartache looming around them.

    “The six-fingered man returned and demanded it, but at one-tenth his promised price. My father refused. Without a word, the six-fingered man slashed him through the heart. I loved my father, so, naturally, challenged his murderer to a duel. ...I failed... The six-fingered man did leave me alive with the six-fingered sword, but he gave me these.” He gingerly touches two scars; one on each cheek. Solemnly, the man in black looks at him.

    “How old were you?”

    “I was eleven years old. When I was strong enough, I dedicated my life to the study of fencing. So the next time we meet, I will not fail. I will go up to the six-fingered man and say, ‘Hello, my name is Antonio Carriedo. You killed my father. Prepare to die.’” His voice is soft, almost a whisper. The air is heavy, but not completely oppressive.

    “You’ve done nothing but study swordplay?” He shrugs lightly.

    “More pursuit than study lately. You see, I cannot find him. It's been twenty years now. I am starting to lose confidence. I just work for Lovino to pay the bills. There's not a lot of money in revenge.”

    “Well, I certainly hope you find him, someday.”

    “You are ready, then?”

    “Whether I am or not, you've been more than fair.” They rise, and walk toward the ruins.

    “You seem a decent fellow. I hate to kill you.”

    “You seem a decent fellow. I hate to die.” The man in black pulls his sword as he replies.

    “Begin!” They fight far away from each other. Every time one goes in for a hit, the other counters perfectly. They begin to circle each other, moving about the ruins. They feint a few more times, then decide that’s enough teasing. Their swords clash, the gap between the noise shortening each time they strike. Antonio manages to run the man in black up a rocky hill. “You're using Bonetti's defense against me, ah?” He’s absolutely elated at that.

    “I thought it fitting, considering the rocky terrain.”

    “Naturally, you must expect me to attack with Capo Ferro.” His fighting style changes with his words.

    “Naturally.” The man in black struggles with the shift, but only for a moment. “But I find Thibault cancels out Capo Ferro, don't you?” He jumps down from the hill, Antonio’s eyes following him.

    “Unless the enemy has studied his Agrippa.” He hops off the perch, somersaulting over the man in black’s head, and lands facing him. “Which I have.” They swing and feint and glide gracefully over the rocky terrain, never once stumbling. One gains the upper hand over the other, but it isn’t long before it’s lost. They go back and forth like this, both obviously experts. Finally, the man in black is able to back Antonio toward the Cliffs of Insanity, closer and closer to his death with each step. “You are wonderful!” He’s awfully chipper, for someone so close to death.

    “Thank you—I’ve worked hard to become so.” He forces Antonio closer to the edge by the second.

    “I admit it—you are better than I am.” But he’s grinning.

    “Then why are you smiling?” He’s a step, maybe two, from falling off the cliff.

    “Because I know something you don’t know.”

    “And what is that?”

    “I am not left-handed.” He tosses the six-fingered sword into his right hand, and the battle shifts in his favour. The man in black desperately tries to keep him by the cliff’s edge, but it’s no use. He has to retreat. Antonio’s sword is merely a blur, it’s moving so fast. He backs the man in black up some stairs, and he stumbles backwards onto one. His sword strikes close, but it misses.

    “You are amazing,” he concludes, finishing climbing the stairs.

    “I ought to be after twenty years.” Antonio pins the man against a stone pillar. The top layer is forced off, over the cliff.

    “There’s something I ought to tell you,” he grunts out, struggling against the sword.

    “Tell me.” It comes out confidently.

    “I am not left-handed either.” The man in black shoves him back, and makes a show of switching his sword into the other hand. Within a matter of seconds, the six-fingered sword is knocked out of his hands. Antonio retreats frantically, diving from the stairs to a moss-covered bar between an archway. He swings for a moment, then lands, grabbing his sword. The man in black flings his sword, and it sticks into the ground, exactly next to where Antonio landed. He jumps onto the bar, rotates around it, then lands next to his sword. He plucks it out of the ground effortlessly, striking a little pose.

    “Who are you?”

    “No one of consequence.”

    “I must know.”

    “Get used to disappointment.” Antonio shrugs a bit.

    “Okay.” He starts the fight again, moving fast. They go back and forth, Antonio countering a slash he hadn’t been able to before, feeling proud of himself for remembering the man in black’s body language for that move. The sword is knocked out of his hand, arching through the air. He casually positions himself below it, and catches it flawlessly. He’s going to lose. He knows he is. He becomes desperate, fiercely swinging his sword at his competition. The man in black catches onto his desperation, and takes a moment to tease him. He swipes at Antonio’s hair, startling him enough to give him an opportunity to knock the six-fingered sword out of his hand. He stands helplessly for a second, then falls to his knees. “Kill me quickly.” There’s raw emotion in his voice. Fear, sorrow, regret...

    “I would as soon destroy a stained glass window as an artist like yourself. However, since I can't have you following me either,” he knocks Antonio in the head with his sword handle, and he falls unconscious. “Please understand I hold you in the highest respect.” He runs over to his scabbard, picks it up, and runs after the Princess, Lovino, and Ivan.

[notebooknebula]

https://www.jayconner.com/nate-hare-on-real-estate-investing-minus-the-bank/

Nate Hare (00:00): So, back to what I was saying, if there’s any Quest clients out there or potential Quest clients you know, I’ll say this about the gentlemen on the call here is that ever since I moved to Texas about eight years ago and started working for quest dress company, I’ve run into, you know, a lot of different people, a lot of different educators and talk about all different types of ways to invest your money in your retirement money, real estate, non real estate notes, all sorts of things. And I think I met Jay, gosh! Probably it year two into the, into my move. So we’ve known each other for I would say probably six years ran into each other at other people’s events. And we’re familiar with each other. Jay used another self directed IRA company that shall not be named back in the day.

Nate Hare (00:52): But it was only always friendly, always cordial. And one thing that stood out to me about Jay is that he brought so much energy into the room when he came in to talk about using private money with retirement accounts. And even today when I go to events, there’s nobody that comes in with the amount of energy to talk specifically about that topic. And obviously that means a lot to us because we’re self directed IRA company. We have a lot of people that like to use their retirement accounts to land. And we have a lot of people that like to borrow private money from our clients accounts. So I knew right from the get go that at some point me and Jay would cross paths and hopefully work together. And ever since we’ve started working together, I’ve had a phenomenal time, you know, coming to your events, I got to say, I look forward to going to your events getting me out of the city of Houston and going out to MRI and is just a wonderful experience.

Nate Hare (01:56): And every time I go out there, I meet not only new investors but repeat students of Jay’s that continually go to his events because they know they’re going to get great content. They know they’re gonna have great networking and if the atmosphere is just second to none. So if you are looking for another opportunity to network with a group of investors, I think Jay Conner’s group is one of the best out there. Very caring people, very knowledgeable. And they speak the same language of all of us at Quest. So if you have not been to one of his events, I highly urge you to come to his events. We’ve got the free events that are coming up. I’m sure you’ll share some details on that. We’ve got three live events that are coming up and they all lead to a three day event. You know, not too long after that, but hopefully we’ll get back to the days where we can meet face to face and do some events. But Hey, it is what it is. And if you can

Jay Conner (03:00): take part in Jay’s free education and you know, the three day event, I would highly urge you guys to take part of that. Well, I’ll tell you, Nate I mean data is right back to you. I love you all the quest people, you all come from that space of having a servant’s heart. And I know that’s why you know, we hit it off, you know, ever since day one you know, you’re at all of my live events. These three free events that we’ve got coming up are all virtual and it’s going to be for your people, all of your Quests subscribers and followers, they get to come absolutely for free. And these are all big advanced virtually, you know, right here on the internet. We’ll be live streaming them just like we are here. But the first Friday is going to be Friday, May 22nd.

Jay Conner (03:51): The second Friday is going to be May 29th and the third Friday is going to be June the 5th. Now, all of this training all day long from nine to five. Of course you’re going to be joining me there as well. You’re going to be there on the virtual events. I’m sorry, [I wouldn’t miss it]. There you go. And so all of this training folks is going to be centered around how to not only survive, but how to thrive in the midst of uncertain times. And I’ll tell you folks, whether it’s Corona virus or something else, there’s always going to be uncertain times coming around the corner. So how can you thrive in the midst of Corona virus? And even more importantly on the other side of the Corona virus. Because even though our country is starting to open up to some degree, the effects of what we’ve gone through here are going to be lasting for quite a while.

Jay Conner (04:53): So let me tell you about these three free Fridays. So the first Friday is going to be centered around private money. How to get funding for your deals, working with people that have self directed IRA accounts or we’re teaching people about self directed IRA accounts. Y’all got 48 individuals, over half of them use their retirement funds at Quest. And none of them knew about self directed IRAs until I told them about it. And so I’ll be showing you how to put your teacher hat on and educate people about how they can use their retirement funds to actually invest into real estate. And if not, get you know, tax-free at least get tax deferred returns and do all this with no penalties but the IRS. So anyway, not only self directed IRAs using private money, but how to work with other people and locate people that have existing investment capital to fund your deals.

Jay Conner (05:56): It’s got nothing to do with your credit, nothing to do with your verification of income, nothing to do with your experience. These three Fridays night are going to be for people that are either new real estate investors or seasoned real estate investors that are looking for more funding for their deals. So again, that’s the first Friday where we focused on private money and I’ve got even more private money coming to my desk right now in the midst of coronavirus. And shut down the people who lost a lot of money in the stock market and they’re looking for a safe, reliable, and secure way to get high rates of return safely and securely. The second Friday, again, all free for the quest followers, IRA. The second Friday is going to be focused on foreclosures. Now, as you all know, foreclosures have been put on a stay they’ve been shutting down as well, but as my grandmother would say, all they’re doing is saving up spit.

Jay Conner (06:56): That stuff is not going away, and when they open it up, there’s going to be a way of not only foreclosures of people that were already in it prior to Corona virus, but you’ve got all these millions of people that have been laid off, they’re unemployed, and so now that’s going to be even more foreclosures. Well, I’m going to be teaching all day how to locate these deals. These are these people that are going through this time and serve them, how to help them in the midst of their crisis and also how to profit from that as well and create win-win scenarios. The third free Friday on June 5th is going to be about what I call, how to locate free private money. Some of the teaching, a strategy that day on how you can fund your deals without actually having to borrow any money. So anyway, those are the three Fridays. And Nate, I’m looking forward to you being there with me during this training and we’re going to get a ton of value, a lot of content to your Quest followers and subscribers. And we’re going to have a great time.

Nate Hare (08:08): Well, and can I add something? Is there’s a lot of people that have offered free days and free education and even do it, you know, over a three day period. I was actually surprised when Jay said that it was a different topic each day. So that’s something that’s a value to anybody out there. Because if you watch day one, day two’s going to be different and day three is going to be different and everything has its own educational component to it. So, and I’m sure absolutely sure that if you join in on any of those days or all three, you’ll walk away with some golden nugget or some learning, token that you didn’t know beforehand. So you know, why not? It’s free. Great people, great education and the content going to be different each time. So I think it’s awesome.

Jay Conner (08:56): So folks, if you have not registered yet, go ahead and get registered. You may be watching the, in fact here is the registration link right now. You can go right now to www.JayConner.com/Quest2020. Getting right on over there. You want to get registered now because I know we will fill up. Nate,Thank you so much for having me here on this on this short video to talk about what we got coming up. And I always look forward and love doing events and now virtual events with you. Well, thank you and appreciate all the support and I look forward to the events. Can’t wait. All right, man. Thank you.

[idiosinkrasies]

The Prince Bride

The story begins on a small countryside outside of the beautiful country of Florin. On this countryside lives a handsome young boy by the name of Smitty. Now Smitty has a fairly simple life, riding his horse, sewing clothes, cooking, and going into town for his mother to buy bread and vegetables.

He wouldn't do most of the hard work in the field or the house, that was left to the simple man who worked there. The man's name was John, but Smitty never called him that. He only ever called him "Farmboy" whenever he wanted something.

"Farmboy," He would say, "put my horse in the stable and polish it saddle, I want to see my face in it by morning." And John would only have one response, "As you wish."

"Farmboy," He said one day, carrying two empty buckets and placing them in front of the man who was currently cutting firewood, "Fill these with water." John stares at him with a knowing smile. "Please." Smitty finishes.

"As you wish." He whispered. And it was then that Smitty knew that when John said 'As you wish' he was actually saying 'I love you'. And it was quite a day when he realized that he loved him back Smitty had been in the house making the bread for him and his family when John walked in and placed wooden stakes next to the door.

"Farmboy," The shorter man called out before the other could leave, John turned to him. His eyes darted around the room to find something for the farmboy to do. "Fetch me that pitcher?" He asked, looking at the pitcher above him he could easily reach. The taller walked over to the other man so they stood face to face and slowly reached up to grab the pitcher off the hook it was on and held it to the other.

"As you wish." He whispered and Jaren felt his breath on his lips. Smitty took it and smiled widely at him. John moved his hand up to brush away Smitty's hair from his face, leaving his palm to rest on his cheek before he leaned in and pressed his lips to Smitty's, sharing their first of many true loves kisses.

John had no money and therefore could not marry his love, so he set out to find work overseas, hoping to find fortunes to care for Smitty and himself. He packed his bag and said his goodbyes, promising that one day he would return.

"I fear I'll never see you again," Smitty revealed, tear threatening to spill from his eyes.

"Of course you will, I'll be back before you know it," John replied hugging his love close, pressing a kiss to his shoulder.

"But what if something happens to you?" He asked, and John pulls his face away to look him in the eyes.

"Hear this now: I will always come for you."

"But how can you be sure?" The tears are close to making their way down Smitty's face.

"This is true love. You think this happens every day?" John said while brushing hair from his lover's face with a reassuring smile resting on his lips. Soon that smile raised into one of true happiness and Smitty couldn't help but smile back at the man he fell so deeply in love with before they leaned into a small kiss.

John never reached his destination. His ship was attacked by the Dread Pirate Notorious, who never left captives alive. When Smitty got the news that John was murdered, he locked himself in his room, not eating nor sleeping for days.

"I will never love again." He said to himself, feeling dead inside.

5 years had past and the main of Florin square was filled as never before to hear the announcement of the great Prince Fitz's husband-to-be. The sound of trumpets rang out through the square and a man standing at 6'5 walked out on top of the highest tower on the castle. He wore a red outfit and a crown and stood looking out over the sea of commoners.

"My people," The man, Fitz, said. "a month from now, our country will have it's five hundredth anniversary. On that sundown, I shall marry a Lord who was once a commoner like yourselves, but perhaps you will not find him common now. Would you like to meet him?" Cheers and applause rang out through the square.

"My people," Fitz raises his hand to gesture to an entrance to the square covered with a red carpet lined with white flowers. "The Prince Smitty."

The townspeople all turn to see a man in all white walk through the entrance and onto the carpet, his cape dragging behind him. The people start to bow down as he makes his way to the top of the stairs leading into the crowd. He looked around sadly finally resting his eyes on the prince staring down at him. His emptiness had consumed him, and although the law of the land gave Fitz the right to choose his husband, he did not love him.

Despite Fitz's reassurance that he would grow to love him, the only joy he found was in his daily ride. One day as he rode through the forest, his red cape and blouse blowing in the wind, he came upon three people standing in the road, one of them was very short, and had sword at his side, the other was a woman who had a regal-looking white blouse and black dress pants that went well with her boots. The last of them was a big man with dark skin who looked very friendly, unlike his associates.

"A word, my lord?" The woman spoke as Smitty stopped his horse. "We are but poor, lost circus performers, is there perhaps a village nearby?"

"There is nothing nearby, not for miles." Smitty provided helpfully. The look on the woman's voice turned sinister as the big man approached him.

"Then there will be no one to hear you scream." The man raised his hand and grabbed the prince by the neck, hitting a certain pressure point that made him fall unconscious before he could get out even a simple 'help'.

Soon the man was loaded onto a ship and the woman was ripping off a patch of cloth from a cape with an emblem sewn onto it. Once it is ripped off the woman pins it to the horse's saddle and the short man, who was helping load the ship stood at the side and spoke up.

"What is that you are ripping?" He asks.

"It's fabric from the uniform of an army officer from Gildir." She responds.

"Who is Gilder?" The big man asks as he holds the prince bridle style.

"The country across the sea. The sworn enemy of Florin." The woman says like it's the most obvious thing in the world. She hits the horse and yells 'go' and the horse starts to ride back to the castle.

"Once the horse reaches the castle, the fabric will make Prince Fitz suspect that they were the ones who abducted his love, and when he finds his body dead on the Gilder frontier, his suspicions will be totally confirmed."

"Woah woah woah, you never said anything about killing anyone." The big man said, eyebrows furrowed.

"I hired you to help me start a war, this is a prestigious line of work, with a long and glorious tradition." The woman says, picking at her nails.

"I just don't think it's right, killing an innocent boy." The woman looks up at the man in front of her.

"Am I going mad? Or did the word 'think' escape your lips?" She says, raising her voice. "You were NOT hired for your brains, you hippopotamic land mass!"

"I agree with Grizzy." The small man says, jumping over the port side of the small ship and walking to the stern.

"Oh, the sot has spoken!" She turns to follow the man to the stern and she climbs up the captain's quarters. "What happens to him is not your concern, Eric, I will kill him, and remember this, NEVER FORGET THIS;" She screams at him, pointing at him making him lean over the edge of the ship. "When I found you, you were some slobbering drunk and high off your arse, you could even buy brandy or marijuana!

"And you!" She turns to the big man, Grizzy. "Friendless, brainless, helpless, hopeless! Do you want me to send you back to where you were?! Unemployed in Greenland?!" She walks off to the bow of the ship, leaving a distressed Grizzy and a disgruntled Eric left to help his friend.

"That Toby, she can fuss." He says, putting an emphasis on the word 'fuss'.

"Fuss, fuss," Grizzy says to himself before he smiles. "I think he likes to scream at us!" He puts emphasis on 'us'.

"She probably means no harm."

"She's very very short on...charm!" The two of them are both smiling now.

"You have a great gift for rhyme!" Eric tells the other man.

"Yes yes, some of the time."

"Enough of that!" Toby yells at the two men.

"Grizzy, are there rocks ahead?" Eric asks, trying to irk the woman who was at the bow.

"If there are, we'll all be dead!"

"No more rhymes now, I mean it!" Toby says, getting angry again.

"Anybody want a peanut?" A yell erupts from the woman who looks like she's ready to strangle the two as the boat sets off into the sunset.